


skin and bones

by Mimi (SillyMimi)



Category: 50/50 (2011), Warrior (2011)
Genre: 30 Day OTP Challenge, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-11
Updated: 2014-05-08
Packaged: 2018-01-11 15:17:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 31
Words: 27,139
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1174604
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SillyMimi/pseuds/Mimi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>What if there's nothing more to me? I'm just skin and bones, there's no mystery.</i>
</p><p>
  <i>Come and rest your bones with me.</i>
</p><p> </p><p>Thirty prompts for Tommy Conlon and Adam Lerner, not necessarily updated every day. I've changed some of the prompts that I wasn't familiar with or felt like didn't fit with the rest of the prompts.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. holding hands

**Author's Note:**

> This is definitely for me, and for anyone else with a hard-on for these two, but seeing as that's a short list, it's mostly for me.
> 
> I just love them so much, and I'm sorta hoping by the end of these prompts, you'll love them, too. ♥
> 
> These prompts take place post-50/50 and post-Warrior in a universe where they're already in a relationship, but has nothing to do with the verse from _Fate_ , if you're familiar with that. If this goes well, I'll put up a very long fic detailing exactly _how_ they got together.
> 
> P.S. Title and first summary lyrics from "Skin and Bones" by Motion City Soundtrack. Second summary lyrics from "Sunday Morning" by Maroon 5.

When they pull up to the hospital, Adam inhales deeply before climbing out of the car. It's his first time here since he's been with Tommy, and it's his first physical therapy appointment in at least half a year. He snaps his gaze over to the other side of the car when he hears the door creaking open and watches Tommy haul himself out.

"You don't have to go," Adam says automatically. He's used to going in alone.

Tommy squints at him from the other side of the car, leaning against the top of it. "What're you sayin'?" he asks lowly.

Adam shrugs and hobbles to the other side of the car, hovering just out of reach of him. "Just--" His voice catches in his throat. "You know. If you're more comfortable staying out here..." He trails off and fidgets with his sleeves, frowning.

Tommy grunts and reaches between them, grasping his hand and squeezing. "I'll go," he says firmly, and he takes the first steps towards the hospital, the two of them hand in hand.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah, so, uh, I have a [tumblr](http://sillybuttmimi.tumblr.com/) now, if you're interested in that sort of thing.


	2. cuddling

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Body heat is the best heat, especially in the middle of a cold Seattle winter.

Tommy watches Adam huff at the thermostat, the both of them in half a dozen layers and looking ready for a day in the snow. That morning, their heater refused to kick in, so they bundled up in thermal undershirts, sweaters, pullovers, hoodies, gloves, thick socks, and beanies.

Adam limps back over to him, and Tommy opens the cocoon of blankets they made on the couch for him.

"Heater's broken," Adam announces with a sigh, and Tommy rearranges the blankets around them. "Gotta call to get it fixed."

"Call later," Tommy says, burying his nose in the crook of Adam's neck. Adam twists away from him, laughing shrilly, and Tommy has to pull him back into his arms.

"Your nose is fucking _freezing_ ," Adam says, reaching up to rub warmth into it with his fingertips.

Tommy snorts and shoves his face back against Adam's neck. "Cold hands," he grumbles, seeking them out and enclosing them between his thighs.

"Yours, too," Adam says, his voice lilting in a familiar tune. He hums the rest of the song, curling up against him with a shiver, but Tommy can feel his dimples against his cheek, and he smiles, too.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _Cold hands._
> 
> _Yours, too._
> 
>  
> 
> "Light My Candle" from RENT.


	3. gaming

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Emily and Rosie Conlon take Hide-n-Seek very seriously.

"...twenty-nine, thirty." Adam pulls his hands away from his eyes. "Ready or not, here I come."

With a groan of difficulty, he pulls himself off the Conlons' couch and begins his search. He checks behind all the living room furniture first, but only comes up with dust bunnies and long-lost pacifiers. He hobbles past the stairs, as they are thankfully off-limits, and enters the kitchen.

He knows the sound of his shuffling gait gives him away, but Brendan's girls don't seem to mind. In fact, they delight in the fact that they nearly always slip past Adam when he's the seeker.

When he passes the pantry, he hears the hinges squeak, and before he can turn himself around, a pair of very large arms wind around him, a hand lightly covering his mouth to stifle his noise of surprise. He lets himself be pulled inside the small, dark room, his back pressed against a warm front. They shut the door.

"Found you," Tommy says low in his ear.

Dropping his head back on Tommy's chest, Adam tugs his hand away from his mouth. "I think you mixed it up," he says quietly, smiling, "too many blows to the head. I'm supposed to find you."

He hears Tommy's laugh, a raspy grunt of a noise, before he feels plush lips pressed against his temple in a messy kiss. "You did find me," he says, his mouth curved up, "I helped you."

Adam starts to wiggle away, reaching for the door. "Then you have to help me find the girls," he says, matter-of-fact.

Tommy makes an exaggerated whine, sounding almost like a disappointed dog, and he pulls Adam more tightly against him. "Gimme a kiss first," he says, mouthing beneath Adam's ear.

Trying and failing to suppress a shudder, Adam swallows thickly. "Uh," he says eloquently.

Tommy's hand finds his jaw and carefully turns his head to the side, leaning down in the darkness and kissing him long and languid, until Adam's knees buckle and he grasps at Tommy's arms to hold himself up.

Outside of the pantry, he thinks he hears little feet or little voices, but then Tommy's licking into his mouth and everything else falls away.

He doesn't notice the pantry door open, but he does jump away from Tommy as if shocked when two voices squeal, "Ew~!" Adam plasters himself to the side wall and tries to melt into it as Emily and Rosie stare up at them accusingly.

"You're not playing," Emily says, her hands on her hips. Half behind her, Rosie mimics her and pouts, "No kisses!"

Adam points at Tommy and mouths, "He did it," and Tommy snorts.

"Sorry," he says, shoving his hands in his pockets, then he leans over them with a smirk. "But if Adam was your boyfriend, you'd want to kiss him all the time, right?"

Emily stubbornly folds her arms over her chest, but Rosie goes bright red and scampers away. Emily starts to go after her, then whirls on Tommy.

"Uncle Tommy," she says in a parenting tone, "you seek. And no more kisses!" She reaches forward and takes Adam's hand, leading him out of the pantry. "Uncle Adam's hiding with us."

As Adam's led away, he glances over his shoulder at Tommy and flashes him a reassuring smile. "We can kiss later," he calls, and Emily mimes throwing up at him.

"You're worse than Mom and Dad," she says petulantly, and Adam just laughs.


	4. on a date

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kyle catches Tommy and Adam just before a date, and Adam asks if he wants to go out of politeness.
> 
> He doesn't actually expect him to say _yes_.

Adam pointedly doesn't look to his right because he can feel Tommy glowering at him. "I said I was sorry," he says for maybe the fifth time, squirming in his plush seat. He hears Tommy grunt, but otherwise, he says nothing, only sinks lower in his seat.

Rubbing his hands over his face, Adam drops his head to his knees and stays there. Moments later, he feels Kyle settle in heavily beside him. "You okay, man?" he asks, and he's so fucking oblivious. He sounds all happy and carefree and Adam would be an asshole if he asked him to go.

Inhaling deeply and holding it, Adam forces himself up and nods. "Yeah," he says, his voice thick, "I'm good." He notices that Kyle seems to have brought half the snack bar into the theater. "Holy shit, dude," is all he can manage.

"It's not all for me," Kyle says, pretending to sound defensive as he hands over two pretzels and a soda. "M'not that much of a fatass." He still has a large popcorn and his own soda, and he keeps pulling smuggled, half-melted chocolates from his pockets.

Adam takes the offered food with an ounce of surprise. "Thanks," he says, and he holds one pretzel out Tommy, looking at him for the first time since they bought their tickets. Slowly, Tommy takes the pretzel, grumbling his gratitude without looking at him.

Frowning, Adam curls up in his seat and tears off pieces of the pretzel. "Did you get cheese?" he asks Kyle, and turns his head to find Kyle already holding it out with a grin.

"Who do you think I _am_ , man?" he says, and Adam smiles back. Kyle drops the cheese in his lap and claps him on the shoulder. "Missed this, dude," he says privately, with more emotion than Adam's come to expect from him. "Never see you anymore."

Adam's smile drops. "I know," he says, the guilt churning his stomach, "I'm sorry, but ... you know."

"I know, dude, you gotta make time for your man," Kyle says through a mouthful of buttery popcorn. "I get it. We should do more stuff like this."

Adam swallows thickly. "Yeah, definitely," he says softly, and he turns away, grasping the peel of the cheese and tugging, but it sticks. He huffs. "C'mon," he mutters.

Tommy leans into his space, their shoulders pressing together, and he places his hand over Adam's. "Lemme," he says lowly, and he tears the plastic top off but doesn't move away.

"Thanks," Adam almost whispers, looking up into his face.

Tommy squeezes his fingers. "It's 'kay," he says, then he sits back, still holding onto Adam's hand.

The lights in the theater dim, Kyle lets out a whoop, Tommy's knee nudges his, and Adam relaxes between them.


	5. kissing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Airports see more sincere kisses than wedding halls."

Adam sits inside King County International Airport, chewing his left thumbnail and watching the windows. He gets through every nail on his left hand before he hears Tommy's flight number, and he hurries as quickly as he can with his stupid limp to the announced gate.

Then he waits, trying to stretch himself and find Tommy in the crowd of people as they leave the plane.

Finally, he sees the bulk of him, and people part like the Red Sea to avoid him. He must look like the worst kind of hoodlum to them, his hood pulled up and his hands in his pockets, but Adam only sees his eyes, alight with warmth.

"Hey," Adam says when Tommy gets within arm's-length of him, and he sort of yelps when Tommy winds his enormous arms around Adam's waist and lifts him off the ground. Laughing, Adam wraps his arms around Tommy's neck, and his breath hitches when Tommy kisses him, soft and passionate and longing.

Moments later, Adam feels the ground under his feet, and Tommy pulls away but presses their foreheads together. "Hey," he returns lowly, smirking, "missed you."

Adam grins wholeheartedly, and he sees the affection bloom across Tommy's face, feels Tommy's hand against his cheek. "Me, too," Adam says softly, squeezing his hand, and Tommy pecks him one more time on his smiling mouth.


	6. wearing each other's clothes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tommy decides that he likes Adam in his clothes, but didn't even realize he had stolen something of Adam's as well.

His shirt and his hoodie soaked through, Tommy jogs back to their house, leaping past the porch and slipping in through the front door. He pulls out his earphones and drops his mp3 player on the shelf beside the door, where their keys dangle.

He passes the living room and goes straight into the kitchen, filling a tall glass with water and gulping it all down in seconds. Water drips around his chin and falls onto his hoodie, and he wipes his face with his sleeve.

Adam's curled up on the couch, his laptop sitting on his thighs and his headphones snug over his ears. He's squinting at the screen in concentration, and Tommy ambles over to him, dropping beside him on the couch and sliding his arm across Adam's shoulders. Tommy stares.

"This mine?" Tommy asks, pulling at the sleeve of Adam's dark blue hoodie, and it definitely looks like Tommy's, judging by the way it completely dwarfs Adam's smaller, slighter frame. He looks at least ten years younger in it, especially with his bulky headphones fitted over his head. Adam doesn't respond, though, absorbed in his work, and Tommy pulls his headphones off.

"Where'd you get this?" he asks again, pulling at the drawstrings for the hood, and Adam glances down at himself, as if he's forgotten what he's wearing.

"Uh, the hamper," he says, sounding embarrassed. "I didn't have any clean ones, so ... I borrowed it."

Tommy grunts, "It's dirty."

Adam shrugs, shifting in the oversized hoodie. "Smells okay to me," he says, the tips of his ears flushing red. "Smells like you."

Kissing the side of his head, Tommy's content watching Adam work, pressing kisses to his cheek and temple, along his ears and jaw. Smiling and making a noise in his throat like a suppressed laugh, Adam leans away from him.

"What're you..." He trails off, a wrinkle appearing between his eyebrows. "Is that my beanie?" he asks with a lopsided grin, and Tommy pulls it off his head. It's light gray and ribbed and definitely not his.

"I guess," he says, grumbling, and he starts to hand it over.

Adam shakes his head and replaces the beanie. "It's okay," he says, straightening it out on Tommy's head with a smile. "Looks nice on you."

Tommy makes a pleased noise and pulls at the hoodie Adam found. "Like you in my stuff, too," he says against Adam's neck, and he slides his hands under the edge of the hoodie, feeling Adam arch under him.

"That much?" he asks, suddenly breathless.

"Mhm."

"Oh ... _oh_."


	7. shopping

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Grocery shopping is apparently very important to Adam, now that he's dating someone on a strict diet.

Tommy pushes the cart down the aisles while Adam swipes around on his smartphone beside him. 

"Produce first," Adam says, gently guiding the cart in that direction with his free hand. Tommy grunts and lets him lead.

Adam squeezes between other shoppers as Tommy stays at the edge of the store. He smiles as he watches Adam put apples, oranges, bananas, and cantaloupe in plastic bags, and even from this distance, he can see Adam apologize to everyone he bumps into. Finally, he hobbles back towards Tommy, his arms full, and Tommy meets him halfway, taking most of the full plastic bags.

"Thanks," Adam sighs, and Tommy grunts. They carefully set everything in the cart, and when Adam straightens up, he furrows his brows at Tommy. "Hey," he says, as if he's been considering what he's about to ask, "can you have potatoes?"

Tommy frowns. "If you wan'em, get'em," he says gruffly, rolling his shoulders.

Pursing his lips, Adam pulls the cart along, heading towards the tomatoes and cucumbers. "Well," he says as he guides the cart, "what's the point in getting them if you can't eat them?" He picks up tomatoes, squeezing gently, bagging the firmest ones and setting them in the cart.

" 'Cuz my diet isn't your diet, Adam," Tommy says, leaning on the cart with a frown.

Adam shrugs one shoulder, frowning. "I know that," he says lamely as he pokes through the cucumbers and bags a few, "but that's not the point." He shakes his head, setting the bag in the cart and finally looking at Tommy. "I don't want you to, like ... be mad because the house is full of food you can't eat," he says, that particular wrinkle between his eyebrows that he only gets when he's over-thinking.

Tommy stares hard at him, and Adam can't hold his gaze; he looks away and brings his hand to his mouth, chewing at his thumbnail. Tommy leans forward to get his attention and moves his hand away from his mouth, squeezing. "Won't be mad," he says firmly, "get what you want."

Still frowning, Adam pulls away and walks past the potatoes, grabbing spinach and lettuce instead. While he's busy comparing salad mixes, Tommy grabs a small five pound bag of potatoes and hides it on the shelf under the cart. Adam doesn't notice until they're at the checkout, and he gives Tommy a flat look as he puts the potatoes on the belt, but a second later he smiles and mouths a thank you.


	8. hanging out with friends

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kyle's dating Katherine, they all hang out together, and Adam is totally fine with it.
> 
> Probably.
> 
> Yeah, definitely.

Adam comes home from work to find the living room hazy with smoke, Kyle and Tommy hunched over the coffee table; Kyle's giggling and Tommy's low, raspy laughter is the only communication between them. They don't even look up when Adam comes in.

Raising an eyebrow, a smile pulling at his mouth, Adam sets his bag down on the empty recliner and heads towards the kitchen. He nearly walks right into Katherine, and they both startle.

"Oh!" she gasps.

"Uh--"

"Sorry," they say together, and Adam reaches up to rub the nape of his neck as she lightly folds her arms over stomach.

"So," she says, and at the same time, Adam starts, "How ..."

They both pause again, Katherine pulling her bottom lip between her teeth and Adam bringing a fist to his mouth to cough.

Finally, he tries again: "How are you and ..." He trails off and makes an aborted gesture towards the couch, and Katherine flushes.

"Me and- and Kyle?" she asks, her eyebrows shooting up, and she fidgets. "Good, um, great." She clears her throat, and stands on her tiptoes, her eyes darting to the couch. "And you and ... ?"

Adam gives a nod and clears his throat. "Tommy, yeah, we're-" His voice cracks, but he tries to smile through it. "Uh, great."

Katherine flashes her one of her helpless little smiles, the ones she used to give him when he was dying and she wasn't sure what to say to him. "Great," she says, her voice softer, and she worries her lower lip again. "And- and you really don't mind?" she asks suddenly, and when Adam only tilts his head at her, she clarifies: "About ... about me and- and Kyle?"

This time Adam's eyebrows shoot up. "Oh," he says lamely, and he feels himself shaking his head. "No, ah, no ... of course not." He's not entirely sure if it's the truth.

"I'm glad," she says warmly, "I still want to be friends, Adam." She reaches between them and squeezes his arm, a painfully familiar and intimate gesture.

Adam instinctively pulls his arm away, giving a clumsy bob of a nod and holding his breath. "Sure, yeah," he says thickly, and he sees her apology in her eyes and in her delicate frown. She looks up past him, her eyes widening, and Adam starts to twist to see what she's staring at, but heavy hands cover his eyes.

"Guess who," Tommy's rough voice says, reeking of weed, and before Adam can answer, Tommy shifts to wind his arms around Adam's waist and pull him flush against him. "Missed you," he grunts, and he nuzzles into Adam's neck, humming low in his throat.

Feeling his face go hot, Adam pats Tommy's hands on his stomach. "Me, too," he says patiently, and Tommy makes a pleased sound.

Kyle sidles up beside Katherine and scoops her off the ground, making her squeal and cling to him as he grins. "Baby," he says gleefully, "I've been pumping weights with the big guy, can you tell?"

Katherine smiles and nods, moving her hands to squeeze his arms. "Oh," she says, her smile widening into a grin, "yes, I can tell. Very strong."

Laughing, Kyle buries his face between her breasts and blows a loud raspberry, and Katherine squeaks again, giving Adam and Tommy a wide-eyed face as her cheeks flush darker with embarrassment. "Kyle!" she says, her voice pitching higher, and then she's giggling as he sets her down.

Watching them, Tommy's chin propped on his head, Adam doesn't mind them being together. Their eyes are alight, and he really does want them both to be happy.

He starts towards the kitchen, and Tommy follows him like a puppy, mouthing at Adam's ears or cheek or lips. "I'm guessing you're all hungry," Adam leans away long enough to say, and Kyle practically slobbers.

"Fuck _yeah_ man, but I'm not eating Tommy's healthy diet bullshit." He turns to Katherine, as if she's the one making the decisions. "Baby, can we get cheeseburgers?"

"Ask Tommy, he can't have cheeseburgers."

" 'Ey, big guy, how 'bout a cheat day? You fuckin' deserve it."

Having pulled Adam back into his arms, Tommy rolls his enormous shoulders. "I would kill for a cheeseburger," he nearly growls, and Kyle laughs loud and long.

"I won't get in your way, dude."

Later, after Adam's aired out the living room and cleared the coffee table, the four of them get comfortable in front of the television and divide the food. Adam lets Kyle and Katherine take the couch, they're the guests, and Tommy makes Adam sit in the armchair before settling on the floor, between Adam's knees.

They watch _Forgetting Sarah Marshall_ and scarf down cheeseburgers, and laughter fills the house; with a smirk, Tommy makes a crack about the whole neighborhood hearing Kyle, and Kyle laughs even louder, nearly choking with it. After they're finished eating, Adam winds his arms around Tommy, resting his chin on his head and interlocking their fingers.


	9. family dinner

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tommy is finally introduced to Adam's parents.

Beside him, he feels Adam fidgeting and pulling at his sleeves where they wait on the porch for Adam's parents. Unsure, Tommy reaches over to squeeze his hand, but Adam brings it up to chew at his thumbnail, purposely avoiding Tommy's gaze. Tommy frowns.

Adam goes down the porch to help his mom up into the house, trying a smile. "Hi, Mom," he says lamely, and she wraps him up in her arms.

"Hi, honey," she says sweetly, then gives Tommy an appraising look, pursing her lips; the look vanishes when she pulls away from Adam, smiling at her son and holding onto his arm.

Adam looks at him. "This is Tommy," he says, trying to keep his voice level, but Tommy sees his worry lines, "my, uh ... boyfriend." He says the title awkwardly, quieter than everything else, then clears his throat.

Tommy shifts uncomfortably and holds out his hand, which Mrs. Lerner takes after a moment. "I've heard so much about you," she says, and she says it so delicately and passively that Tommy can't tell if she's been told good things or terrible things. Tommy swallows and lets go of her hand.

"C'mon," Adam says thickly, leading her up the porch and through the front door. "Dinner's ready."

Cautiously, Tommy gestures for Adam's father to follow, and the old man smiles amiably. "I'm Richard," he says. Tommy tries to smile back, tries to look friendly.

"Tommy," he returns politely, guiding him into the house, and Richard Lerner smiles more brightly, shuffling inside.

Tommy closes the door behind them, and he helps Richard to the dinner table, which they've set with a simple meal of seasoned and baked chicken breasts, garlic mashed potatoes (mashed cauliflower for Tommy), and green beans. Adam pulls out the chair for his mom, but she gently waves him off. Tommy pulls out the chair for Richard, who sits gratefully, then he pulls the chair out for Adam, who flashes him a wrinkled but thankful smile.

They all dig into their food with varying levels of interest; Richard seems the most pleased, even smiling and complementing the deliciousness of the dinner after two bites. Adam eats slowly and watches his mother, who watches Tommy; Tommy's never felt so self-conscious just eating his food.

"So," she finally says, smiling again, but it doesn't reach her eyes, "you moved, honey."

Adam clears his throat. "Yeah, Tommy helped me get a new house," he says, reaching under the table and squeezing Tommy's knee. "It's nicer than the old one, even if we're still renting."

"Mm," she hums, neither confirming nor denying that the house is, in fact, nicer. After a moment, she says, "It's small."

"Well, yeah," Adam says quickly, "we wanted a smaller place. Easier to get around for me, and we're closer to the, uh, gym that Tommy likes. Right?" He looks at Tommy, helpless, floundering, so Tommy gives a firm nod that relaxes Adam's shoulders.

"Hm," she hums again, chewing slowly. After an uncomfortably long pause, she looks at Tommy and says in an even tone, "Are you two being safe?"

Adam nearly chokes, his silverware slipping from his fingers, and he scrambles to catch it, staring pointedly at his mother. " _Mom,_ " he grinds out.

She throws up her hands, looking at her son with innocence. "It's a perfectly reasonable question, honey," she says, completely convinced of her own words.

Setting down his utensils, Adam leans over the table slightly, lowering his voice. "No, it's not," he says, his voice shaking with his contained anger. "You never asked that when I was with Rachel, or Katherine, because you _knew_ that I was. But now that I'm with a guy, all of a sudden you need to make sure?"

Adam's mother purses her lips again, huffing, and she says nothing in reply. Tommy squirms in his seat as Adam returns to the meal, the line of tension returning to his shoulders. Richard smiles and chews. "This is delicious," he says happily, and Adam forces a smile.

"Thanks, Dad."

Richard tilts his head, his face falling slightly, and he looks to his wife for confirmation, who smiles and nods. Richard's smile returns, though not as brightly. "You're welcome," he says, the slightest bit unsure.

The rest of the meal finishes in near silence, and Tommy gets up first to start taking the dishes to the kitchen. He has to make several trips to get everything, and every time he leaves the dining room, he hears Adam and his mom talking in hushed tones; they always go quiet when Tommy returns, but Adam looks more and more frustrated with every secret exchange.

Finally, Adam gets stiffly to his feet. "I'll help you," he says to Tommy, taking the last plates out of Tommy's hands and stalking into the kitchen. Tommy follows him with a frown, wanting to wrap him up in his arms and dig his fingers into Adam's shoulders until his stress melts away.

Adam hand washes the dishes, with a sponge and dish soap, even though their dishwasher is perfectly fine, and Tommy thinks it might be because he needs just a few precious moments away from his mom to compose himself. Tommy dries everything Adam hands him with paper towels and puts them away, unsure of what to say.

Adam suddenly curses, a slippery glass falling from his hands, and instinctively, Tommy quickly pulls him against his chest, turning his back to the sink. He hears the glass shatter, feels the shards go everywhere, and he lifts Adam off the ground, carrying him out of the kitchen.

"Hey-- Wait," Adam tries to protest, squirming against him, but Tommy holds him effortlessly.

"I'll finish," Tommy says softly, setting him down in the dining room, his hands on Adam's waist.

Adam purses his lips (now Tommy knows where he gets it from) and lowers his voice. "I'm not... I would've been fine," he says, his brows knitting together.

"Talk to your mom," Tommy says, gently ignoring him, and he lowers his voice. " 'Member that she's just lookin' out for you." _You don't know when she'll be gone,_ he doesn't say. Instead, he murmurs, "You're her baby, Adam."

With a sigh, Adam cards a hand through his hair and gives a clumsy nod before ambling to the living room, where his mother and father have settled themselves. Adam's mom stares at them, her face pinched, but smiles when Adam sits beside her. Tommy returns to the kitchen, sweeping up shards of glass and dropping them in the trash. When he chances a look in the living room, Adam's shoulders have lost their tension, and his face doesn't have so many wrinkles and lines.

Tommy takes a damp paper towel to the linoleum to pick up tiny, stray shards of glass, and when he gets to his feet, he finds Mrs. Lerner standing in the doorway, watching him. He shuffles near her to toss the trash away, then stands before her, feeling like he's presenting himself for approval.

"Mrs. Lerner," he says by way of greeting, hunching his shoulders forward to seem smaller and less intimidating.

She purses her lips at him, which seems to be her default face regarding Tommy. After a moment of silence, she asks in a soft, hoarse voice, "Are you taking care of my son?"

Tommy nods solemnly. "Yes, ma'am."

With a dramatic little sigh, she says, "Don't call me ma'am, it makes me feel old. Diane, please." Tommy nods again, looking at her apprehensively.

"Yes, Diane."

"Better."

She peers at him curiously, then her entire posture and expression changes as she shifts closer to him, her eyebrows knitting together and a worried frown downturning her lips. "Is he happy? Does he seem happy to you? I can never tell, he's always upset when I see him."

Tommy doesn't answer immediately; instead, he thinks of how often he sees Adam's smile. The real one, all dimpled and wrinkled and unrestrained, not the forced pursing of his mouth he does to be polite. He sees it every day, at least three times, at most a dozen if Adam's in a particularly good mood.

Finally, Tommy nods. "Yeah," he says lowly, "I think so."

Diane worries her bottom lip for a moment, wringing her hands and searching Tommy's face. "If you could make him happy," she says after a long pause, "I would be ... very grateful."

Cautiously Tommy reaches between them and takes her hand, squeezing gently. "I want him to be happy, too," he says quietly, "safe and happy."

Diane pats his hands, then his arm, with a teasing little smile. "Keeping him safe should be easy for you," she says warmly, almost affectionately, "you're even bigger in person." She titters, girlish and sweet, and Tommy counts this as the greatest victory of his life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hahaha mimi you're so funny! tommy the big bad mma fighter being all nervous because of his boyfriend's mom.
> 
> hohoho classic


	10. singing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rosie really, really likes Adam and wants him to be her Prince Charming. He obliges, and Tommy seems really surprised that he can sing.
> 
> Also turned on, apparently.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a weird thing to note, but, uh, spoilers for _Frozen_. Sort of. It's kinda vague, but still a spoiler.

The girls come banging on their door first thing in the morning, demanding that their uncles come and play with them.

Adam groans and curls even closer to Tommy. "Too early," he calls, loudly enough for them to hear, and Tommy grunts a drowsy agreement, tightening his arm around Adam's waist.

"But I wanna show you my castle!" Rosie whines.

Emily chimes in, "And she wants Uncle Adam to be her Prince Charming!"

One of them squeals, probably Rosie, so it must be Emily that yelps as if struck. "Well, you _do_!" she cries.

Beside him, Adam feels Tommy's chest vibrating as he rumbles a low laugh. "Prince Adam will be out in a minute," he says, sounding amused.

On the other side of the door, Adam hears Tess berate the girls: "Come eat breakfast and let them wake up. Come on." The girls give dual whimpers of protest, their feet dragging as they abandon the door.

Tommy makes a pleased noise and tucks Adam against him, his eyes shut and a smile lifting his mouth.

"We should get up," Adam says, half-lying on Tommy's chest, propping his chin up near his collarbone.

Tommy snorts and wraps his arms more securely around him. "Nah," he says, opening his eyes a little, "five more minutes."

Adam shakes his head with a grin. "Don't you want breakfast?" he asks, trying to sound persuasive.

Tommy shuts his eyes and shifts with a throaty sound. "Want you for breakfast," he says, and Adam can't tell if he's serious.

A moment later, Tommy opens his eyes, looking more alert, and the only warning Adam gets that he's about to do something is a devious little twitch of his mouth.

"Tommy--" he starts, but Tommy's already moving, expertly flipping them over, even ensuring that Adam's leg or hip isn't jostled by the switch.

Adam's actually pretty great; he swallows as Tommy cages him in with his enormous arms. "So you're definitely awake now," he says lamely.

Tommy grunts and leans down, kissing Adam's mouth and jaw and below his ear, until Adam's shuddering and struggling to keep quiet.

"You're insatiable," he says as Tommy kisses languidly down his neck, reaching up to hold onto Tommy's shoulders.

"You're not stopping me," Tommy says smugly.

Huffing, Adam wiggles out from under him and sits up. "We can-" He gives Tommy a significant look, flushing, pausing to indicate what he was promising. "-later tonight. After the girls go to sleep."

Tommy hums and kisses him one more time on the mouth, slow and deep, licking into Adam's mouth and holding the back of his head with one big hand. Groaning, Adam melts and presses back against him, letting Tommy pull him close.

Finally, Tommy moves back with a smirk. "Later," he reminds teasingly, and he slips out of bed to get dressed.

Hot and breathless, Adam follows him up and picks out some casual clothes. "Tease," he grumbles, unable to keep himself from smiling.

Tommy snorts a laugh and reaches over to squeeze his ass. "You love it."

*

After breakfast, Emily and Rosie lead them to their playhouse outside, a lovingly crafted and painted structure from their mother and father. Emily shows Tommy around, and Adam tries not to laugh because Tommy barely fits in their tiny castle; he has to hunker down in the corner as Emily prepares the small plastic table for a tea party. Rosie smooths out her blue sundress and tugs Adam's hand, her cheeks and nose reddening.

"Do you know the song, Adam?" she asks, swaying nervously.

"Which song?" he says with a patient smile.

Rosie looks at her feet. "The one that Cinderella and Prince Charming sing," she says finally.

Carefully, minding his hip, Adam lowers himself to her level and sits cross-legged on the plain wooden floorboards. "Yeah," he says, dipping his head to look her in the eye, "all I did when I was your age was watch Disney movies."

A grin brightens her face, and she bounces, holding onto Adam's hands. "Okay!" she says gleefully. "I'll sing and be Cinderella, and you sing and be Prince Charming! Okay?"

He hears Tommy huff out a laugh but nods. "Sure," Adam says with an encouraging smile, "you start, and ignore your wicked step-mother over there." He jerks his head in Tommy's direction, who snorts.

Rosie giggles, then she calms her body, swaying back and forth to the music in her head. She hums the first few notes, a smile on her face, and Adam reaches out to hold both her hands, helping her move back and forth.

She opens her eyes, flushed even darker from before, and sings, " _So this is love, mmhmm / so this is love._ " Her voice wavers nervously, and she can't look Adam in the eye. He gives her little fingers a reassuring squeeze and grins at her.

"You sound great," he says softly when she pauses, and she beams at him.

" _So this is what makes life divine_ ," she sings, with more confidence, and he keeps swaying her, as if they're dancing. " _I'm all aglow, mmhmm / and now I know._ "

Adam smiles at her and chimes in, echoing her, " _And now I know_." Out of the corner of his eye, he sees Tommy shift closer to them, as if curious now.

Rosie nearly devolves into giggles, bouncing and moving closer to him as they sing together, " _The key to all heaven is mine._ "

Tommy plops himself next to them, watching them both, and he pulls Emily into his lap so she can watch too. Rosie flushes and stares at them, puffing out her cheeks as if to tell them to go away, but Adam takes her tiny face between his hands and makes her look at him.

"Keep your eyes on me, Cinderella," he says gently, and Rosie barely manages a nod, her eyes wide.

"Okay," she whispers, and she clears her throat to sing alone again. " _My heart has wings, mmhmm / and I can fly._ "

Adam holds her hands tightly and keeps swaying her back and forth as he joins in, _"I'll touch ev'ry star in the sky."_

Rosie finally smiles again, her eyes crinkling with her unbridled joy, and Adam can't help smiling too, as they sing together, " _So this is the miracle that I've been dreaming of._ "

 _"Mmhmm,"_ Rosie hums.

Adam hums back, _"Mmhmm."_

Together, they finish, _"So this is love._ "

There's a moment of silence as Rosie and Adam grin at each other, and she finally laughs, launching herself into his arms. "Adam!" she squeaks. "You really are a prince!" She hugs her arms around his middle and buries her face in his chest.

Emily applauds their performance, and Tommy props his chin on her shoulder, a smile pulling at his plush mouth.

Rosie wriggles in his arms. "Sing again, Adam, please?" she says into his shirt, and he huffs an embarrassed laugh.

"Sing what?" he asks, stroking her hair, and Rosie giggles again.

Emily pushes out of Tommy's lap, winding her arms around Adam's neck and leaning over his back. "No," she says eagerly, "sing with me now!"

Adam cranes his neck to look at her. "Oh," he says, teasing, "I thought you were _too cool_ to be a princess."

Emily gasps, as if struck by a great idea. "Yeah," she breathes, "I am. I'll be a queen! Adam, have you seen _Frozen_? I wanna be Elsa!"

Rosie sits up like lightning, her attention caught. "I wanna be Anna!" she says happily, scrambling to her feet and bouncing again. "Adam, be Kristoff! And Hans, so you can sing with me, but then be Kristoff again because Hans is a butt."

Adam cracks an anxious grin, looking helplessly at Tommy, who just smirks and shrugs his shoulders. Adam looks back at the girls. "I haven't seen that yet," he admits sheepishly.

Both of the girls inhale sharply, their eyes wide, as if not seeing the movie is a terrible crime against them, and they leap into action. Emily scrambles out of the castle, calling, "I'll get the CD!" Simultaneously, Rosie hugs Adam again, giving him a million-watt smile.

"We'll teach you!" she says, her grin overpowering him, and Adam can't say no.

*

Later, after dinner and washing up, Tommy and Adam return to their guest bedroom. As soon as Tommy shuts the door, he scoops Adam into his arms in a fireman's carry.

"Now you're my princess," Tommy says with a crooked grin.

Adam laughs. "I don't think so," he says, his voice hoarse from singing literally the _entire day_. "God," he says as Tommy lays him down on their bed, "they're like little Energizer bunnies."

Tommy tucks them into the sheets and lies on his back, tucking one arm behind his head and the other around Adam's waist. "They like you," he says warmly.

"I know," Adam says with a smile, "I like them, too." He half lies on Tommy, drawing shapes against Tommy's chest.

After a moment, Tommy rumbles, "You gonna sing for me now?"

Adam hides a smile and looks up at him. "Sure, big boy," he says playfully, and he slowly slides his hands down Tommy's chest. Lowly, he sings, " _Toucha toucha toucha touch me, I wanna be dirty / Thrill me chill me fulfill me / Creature of the night._ " He changes the tempo, slows it down, and teases Tommy with his hands. He traces Tommy's stomach, his ribs, his hips. Flicks his nipples and scraps his teeth against Tommy's collarbone. 

With a growl, Tommy flips them over, devouring Adam's mouth in a hungry kiss, and later, Adam has to shove his face into the pillows to keep quiet.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Songs were _So This is Love_ from Disney's Cinderella and _Touch-a Touch-a Touch Me_ from Rocky Horror.


	11. making out

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Adam's achy and tired, so Tommy does what he can to make him feel better.

Tommy lounges on their bed, channel surfing without interest. Adam limps in, holding his lower back with one hand and grimacing. Sitting up, Tommy quickly shuts the television off, watching him.

"You okay?" he asks quietly, and Adam jerks his head awkwardly back and forth, as if he can't decide whether to nod or shake his head. Tommy frowns and sits at the edge of the bed, ready to go to him.

Making a low, pained noise in his throat, Adam arches his back with one hand on the dresser and clenches his jaw. "Not really," he says at last, his voice strained, and his body folds in on itself.

Sliding off the bed, Tommy opens the drawer beside the bed and pulls one of the orange containers of Vicodin from it, ambling over to Adam and twisting the cap off. "Here," he says, taking Adam's hand palm-up and depositing a couple pills there, "take those and get in the shower." He places one hand at the small of Adam's back, over his scar, and guides him towards the bathroom as Adam dry-swallows the pills.

Tommy supports Adam and turns the shower on, waiting for the water to heat up. "Arms up," he says, and Adam gives a clumsy nod, lifting his arms over his head. Tommy grips the bottom of his shirt and pulls it over his head, then throws it in the hamper. "Pants," he says, and Adam nods again, hitching his thumbs under the waistbands of his pants and underwear, sliding them off and dropping them beside his shirt.

Swiping a hand through the spray a few times, Tommy grunts his approval and takes Adam's elbow, helping him in. As soon as Adam's under the water, he sighs heavily and braces his hands against the wall, some of the tension leaking out of him.

Tommy watches him for a moment, eyes the water sliding between his shoulder blades, down his spine, over his jagged scar, between his cheeks. After a pause, he reaches out and presses his fingers into Adam's shoulders, not minding the water. Adam curves his back towards him, dropping his chin against his chest with a moan.

"Stay there," Tommy says, his voice hoarse as he removes his hands, and Adam glances over his shoulder at him with a disappointed little frown.

Quickly stripping off his clothes, Tommy climbs into the shower beside him, shutting the shower door, and Adam's face lifts. He starts to turn to face him, but Tommy shakes his head and gestures for Adam to face the wall again. "Uh-uh," he says, "around."

Raising an eyebrow, Adam nonetheless turns again, his palms flat against the shower wall. Tommy digs his fingers into Adam's shoulders again, making slow circles with his thumbs, and Adam drops his forehead against the white tile with a deep groan.

" _Fuck_ , there," he says to the wall, and Tommy presses harder around his shoulder blades, moving gradually lower. He massages along the bony knobs of Adam's spine, but when he gets within inches of the scar, he rubs much gentler, barely putting any pressure at all. Adam arches his back, a gasp punching out of him, and he reaches back to clutch at one's of Tommy's wrists, as if to stop him or possibly for support; Tommy's not sure.

"You okay?" he asks, his voice rough, and Adam nods.

"Yeah," he says, breathless, "it, uh, hurts so good." He turns his head to show Tommy that he's smiling, joking, and Tommy leans in to kiss the dimple that appears on his cheek.

Tommy starts to massage Adam's left leg, just as gently, and Adam half-turns towards him, letting go of Tommy's wrist and placing his hand on his back. Watching him work, Adam bites his lip to keep from making an embarrassing noise. Once finished, Tommy straightens up, and Adam looks loose and happy, a smile on his lips. He pulls Tommy down to his level with a hand on the back of his neck, pressing their foreheads together. "Thank you," he says softly, and he kisses Tommy just once, slow and grateful, his hands moving to frame Tommy's face.

Making a pleased sound low in his throat, Tommy moves his hands to Adam's waist and pulls their bodies together. They kiss softly and languidly, Adam smiling against his mouth, and Tommy pulls back to kiss his dimples again. "Welcome," he says with a smile of his own. Adam kisses him again, sliding his fingers through Tommy's wet hair. They kiss like that for a long time, vanilla and affectionate and reassuring, then Tommy feels Adam's cock hardening against his thigh; he growls low in his throat, blood rushing to his cock.

He brings one of his hands to the back of Adam's head to tilt his head back and deepen their kiss, sucking Adam's lower lip into his mouth. Adam gasps again, sounding a lot less pained than before, and Tommy plunges his tongue into Adam's open mouth, holding onto him tightly but careful not to hurt him.

Adam eagerly kisses back, his hands moving constantly, like he can't decide what he wants to touch; he squeezes Tommy's biceps, grips his shoulders, slides down his pecs, traces the lines of his stomach and the ridges of his ribs. Tommy rumbles, lets him explore and sucks marks into Adam's neck and under his jaw. Gripping Adam's asscheeks, Tommy easily manuevers him against the wall and slots their hips together with a groan.

At the friction, Adam's mouth falls open with a breathy, desperate sound, and he finally settles his hands on Tommy's shoulders, rolling his hips. Tommy ducks his head and kisses him again, pushing into his mouth with his tongue and digging his fingers into his asscheeks. Restless, Adam kisses him hungrily, his eyes half-closed; Tommy takes everything he gives and returns it, his hands all over Adam's slim frame and their bodies pressed close. They kiss and kiss until their lips are swollen and red, until they pull away just to breathe in each other's air.

Tommy shifts his weight, the both of them groaning, and he inhales deeply, trying to gather himself. "I'll let you finish up," he says, his voice low and rough, but he doesn't move away.

A grin spreads over Adam's face, and he grasps Tommy's biceps, keeping him close. "No way," he breathes, "you're not going anywhere."

Tommy grins back, leaning down with a burst of vigor to kiss him senseless all over again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Things sure are getting
> 
> _steamy_
> 
> in here!


	12. first time

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tommy's out of town and wants to try something different.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm saving their actual first-first time for the long fic I'm definitely going to write. So you get this instead!

Adam lies on one side of their bed, tucked inside the sheets and half-watching Food Network as he thumbs through a book. (To be fair, he's only half-reading that as well.) The sun set hours ago, and the television and a small lamp on the table beside the bed light the room. Every few moments, he glances at his phone next to the light and worries his lower lip, and he reluctantly tears his eyes away when it does nothing.

Finally, he hears it buzzing against the surface, and he drops the book on the floor without saving his place, scooping up his phone so quickly that it nearly slips out of his fingers. Breathless, he answers, "Hello?"

"Hey," says the gruff but affectionate voice on the other side of the line, and Adam collapses against the pillows with a smile.

"Tommy," he says with relief, and he fumbles with the remote to shut off the television. "What's up? You in your room?"

There's shuffling, shifting, and creaking on the other line, and Adam imagines him dropping his duffel bag at the edge of the hotel room bed and collapsing on it. "Yeah," Tommy says, "just got in." Another rustle, and his voice is lower when he says, "Miss you."

Adam tilts his head back and stares at the ceiling. "Yeah," he says, "me, too."

In the following silence, Adam gets more comfortable, content to listen to Tommy breath through the phone, not minding the quiet between them. Finally, after at least a minute, Tommy says, "What are you wearing?"

His brows furrowing, Adam lifts the sheets for a moment to check. "Uh, pajamas," he says lamely, then wriggles back inside the bedding. "Why?"

There's another pause, leaving Adam listening intently, before Tommy says in a growl, "M'not wearing anything."

Eyes widening, Adam swallows thickly. "Oh," he says softly, and he shifts in the bed again, licking his lips as his heart starts to race. "Why not?"

"Thinkin' about you," Tommy says after a second, his voice rough, and Adam's cock twitches.

They've never actually done anything like this before. Before, Adam had been going _with_ Tommy to his fights, but not anymore. This was the first fight he wouldn't physically be at since they met, and apparently Tommy was missing him _a lot_.

Pressing the phone against his shoulder, Adam hastily throws the blankets off himself, slides his pants and underwear off and kicks them away from himself. "Thinking about me how?" he asks, sitting up to dig through the drawer next to the bed for the lube.

"Mm," Tommy rumbles, and Adam holds his breath to suppress a shaky sigh, "thinkin' about what I'd do to you if you were here."

Adam bites his lip and gets comfortable again, putting the phone on speaker and setting it on his chest. He squeezes some clear, slick lubricant into his palm. "And what would you do?" he asks quietly, his voice suddenly hoarse as he grips his interested but mostly limp dick.

Tommy groans low in his throat, and Adam imagines him naked on the hotel bed, loosely stroking his thick cock. "Here's what I'd do," Tommy says lowly. "Kiss you slow until you begged for more." Adam shudders, his head tipping back against the pillows.

"Bend you over the bed and pull your pants down just enough to get to your cock and your ass." Exhaling sharply at the thought, Adam breathlessly strokes his quickly hardening dick.

"Spread your legs and finger you open nice and slow." Adam likes that idea; he plants his feet flat on the bed and dribbles lube between his asscheeks with his free hand, circling his hole in slow, exploratory movements.

"I know you love my fingers in your asshole, Adam, and two's never enough, huh? You want three, huh?" Little gasps and moans fall out of his mouth as Adam pushes his index finger inside of himself, past the tight muscle, stretching himself open.

"Fuck, Tommy," he breathes, his voice breaking, and he hears Tommy groan over the line.

"Your fingers aren't big enough, huh?" he says, his voice rougher and deeper than before, and he grunts. 

Adam knows that Tommy's touching himself, too, and the thought punches a moan out of him. Pressing a second finger inside himself, Adam arches his back off the bed. "No," he says, and he sounds pitiful but he doesn't fucking _care_ , "they're _not_. Need yours."

"S'okay, Adam, I'll take care of you when I get back. Just finish up for me, 'kay? Fuck yourself with your fingers for me, Adam." Tommy's nearly growling now, and Adam pushes in a third finger, pushing his hips down against the sweet pressure. Lightning rocks through him when he brushes his prostate, and he greedily fucks down against his own fingers, his mouth dry.

"Oh, _God_ ," he moans, and he quickens his pace, stroking his cock in time with his thrusts. "Fuck, _fuck_ , Tommy."

Tommy makes a hungry, raspy sound in his throat. "That's it, c'mon, keep going. I want you to come all over yourself for me, 'kay?"

Adam bites his lip, his hips rocking. "Mmhmm," he whines, "gonna. Wanna come for you."

"That's good, you're so fucking good for me, Adam-- _Fuck_." Tommy's voice breaks off into a series of grunts, and Adam shuts his eyes, his orgasm building in the pit of his stomach. He feels so unbearably _hot_ , and the cool air in the room makes him feel like he's tingling all over. Pleasure pulses through him as he fucks himself harder and faster, stripping his cock, coming closer and closer to the edge.

"Oh, fuck, _fuck_ ," Adam groans, and he gasps suddenly, arching off the bed as everything tense inside him suddenly releases. He comes hard, shaking, moaning, and gasping through it; vaguely, he hears Tommy on the other end of the line, grunting viciously, and Adam bites his lip, riding out his orgasm.

"Fuck," he hears Tommy, " _Adam_."

Adam slowly comes down, heaving a great sigh and smiling with content. "Come for me, Tommy," he says, his voice rolling and coarse.

Over the line, Tommy sounds harsh and unsteady when he moans, and Adam rolls onto his side, turning off speaker and pulling the phone back to his ear, listening with suddenly heavy eyes. He hears Tommy groan; shutting his eyes, Adam imagines him on that hotel bed again, one of his big hands clenched in the sheets as the other steadily jerks his cock until he comes.

Biting his lip, Adam opens his eyes again and wiggles a bit, glad for once that he can't get hard again for at least another half-hour. (It used to take half that time, but the chemo probably fucked that up.)

Tommy's end goes quiet for a moment, except for a sigh and some shuffling. In the silence, Adam rolls out of bed, limps to the bathroom, and one-handedly cleans himself off with a wet washcloth. He checks if he soiled the sheets, but they look okay for now. They _might_ smell like sweat and sex a little, so he works the window open to let in some fresh air.

"Mm," he hears Tommy finally.

Adam smiles and settles back in the sheets, curling up on his side. "Better?" he asks softly.

"Yeah. You?"

"Yeah."

They go quiet again, and Adam shuts his eyes, trying to imagine Tommy's heat against his back, Tommy's arm around his middle. "I think I can get to sleep now," he says, keeping his eyes closed.

"I bet," Tommy laughs lowly.

Adam smiles and says, "I'll watch your fight tomorrow, okay? Win it for me."

" 'Course I will," Tommy says immediately, brimming with confidence. "No fuckin' contest."

Stifling a laugh, Adam murmurs, "Okay. Get a good night's sleep." He pauses. "I love you."

There's an answering pause on the other line, then a very soft, "Love you, too."

"Bye," Adam says reluctantly.

"Bye."

Adam waits a few moments, then ends the call. He squirms to get comfortable, closes his eyes again, and sighs. Although his back and the other side of the bed is cold, the thought of Tommy being there, warming him up and holding him close, lulls him to sleep.


	13. costumes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John McClane and Dr. House get it on, and Kyle does not approve. It's totally not canon.

Kyle and Katherine meet up at their house, dressed as a pair of zombified doctors, his scrubs and her coat frayed and bloodied, make-up on their faces, his arms, and her legs. (Well, Katherine's a doctor, and Kyle's a nurse. Tommy can only imagine _that_ conversation.

_Oh, I'm the nurse because I'm a woman?_

_No, baby, you're the nurse because I want to see you in a mini-skirt!_

_Real nurses don't wear mini-skirts, Kyle._

_It's Halloween, babe, it's supposed to be fun._

_You know what would be fun? If you were the nurse, and I was the doctor._

_Aw, Katie...._

_I'll wear a pencil skirt and the lowest-cut shirt I can find._

_Shit, okay!_ )

Kyle lets out his loud guffaw of a laugh when he sees Tommy. "Lookin' good, dude!" he says with a grin.

Tommy smirks. "Adam's idea."

Honestly, Tommy really hasn't dressed up for Halloween in fucking years. He always thought of it as childish, but then Kyle had invited them to this Halloween party at his favorite club, and Adam still couldn't say no to him. Tommy had agreed to the costume because it was simple but recognizable; dark slacks, a leather belt, a vertical shoulder holster they found online, and one of his own white wife-beaters made filthy beyond recognition. Adam added a homemade police badge around his neck and an unlit cigarette in Tommy's mouth because, as he said, the accessories made the costume. However, Tommy couldn't go in the club barefoot, so he settled for his running shoes. Then Adam had sat him in the bathroom and dirtied up his face and arms with fake blood and grime.

Needless to say, Tommy didn't have to be told he looked good, because he already fucking knew that.

"Fuckin' awesome," Kyle says in awe, but Katherine just blinks at the both of them.

"Um," she says, her brows furrowed, "what are you?"

Kyle sort of gapes at her, as if she's committed a terrible offense against him. "Baby," he says breathlessly, "haven't you seen _Die Hard_?"

She bites her lip and smiles awkwardly.

"Yippee ki yay, motherfucker?" Kyle asks hopefully.

Her lips purse as she makes an embarrassed, "Mm," sound, shaking her head, and Kyle groans dramatically.

"You need to be _educated_ ," he says matter-of-factly. "Tomorrow, after my hangover, we're watching _Die Hard_. All of them-- Except the second one, fuck that one."

Adam ambles out of the bathroom, a simple curved cane in his hand with flames painted along the side. (They found the cane at the thrift store and painted it themselves.) He's wearing a white graphic tee under a dark blue button-up and a gray suit jacket, worn jeans, and sneakers. He even purposely neglected to shave the past week to grow a little stubble. With his free hand, he shakes his bottle of Vicodin at Kyle, grinning. "It's never Lupus," he says in his roughest voice, joining them in the living room and leaning on his cane.

For a moment, Kyle just stares at him, then his face suddenly breaks into a giant, open-mouthed smile as he laughs again, maybe louder. "Oh my fucking _God_ , dude," he says gleefully, "that's fucking _perfect_ , holy shit."

Katherine giggles a bit, smiling at him too. "Very clever," she says, and Adam shrugs his shoulders with a flattered smile, his cheeks and ears flushing red.

Tommy has to stifle a laugh because Adam is just so fucking _brilliant_. Instead of being all pouty about his gimpy walk and thinking he couldn't have a little fun, he just rolled with it; with all the time he spent in pain or being the straight man to Kyle's funny guy routine, Tommy sometimes forgot that Adam was actually _hysterical._ His sense of humor was deadpan and sardonic, which actually worked perfectly considering his costume; Adam never stopped surprising him. Tommy winds his arm around Adam's waist and pulls him against his side, kissing his temple.

"I fuckin' love you," he says lowly, and Adam grins at him, dimpling.

"I know," he says, teasing, then adds quietly, "love you, too."

Kyle shakes his head at them. "Okay, no, now it's weird," he says, starting out the door. "We're going now, right?" He balks. " 'Kay, no, stop kissing him, Tommy, I swear to God. John McClane cannot fuck Doctor House."

Tommy pointedly kisses Adam on the mouth (Kyle groans at him) and grabs the house keys, leading everyone out the front door and locking it behind him. After an uncertain pause, he tucks their keys away in one of his holsters. They were pretty useful; he had his and Adam's wallets in the other one.

As Katherine walks down the porch, he hears her say obviously, "Doctor House is too busy fucking Wilson anyway."

Kyle whips his head around so fast he stumbles. "What the fuck, no way."

She grins and takes his hand to steady him. "Oh, yeah."

*

The club is loud and heady and _packed_. People in colorful costumes are grinding, kissing, and pumping their fists in the air to the music. Tommy keeps Adam close, placing a hand between his shoulder blades to guide him around the edge of the crowd, to claim an open booth. He helps Adam sit at the end of the seat as Katherine announces that she's going to try to find the bathroom. Kyle chases her, and Tommy doesn't want to think about _why_ , just hopes he's asking for her drink order or something.

He turns his attention back to Adam and asks, "Jack 'n' Coke?"

Adam nods and unconsciously pops a couple pills, his cane in his lap. "Yeah, please."

Tommy goes to the bar and ignores the double-takes he gets. (Whether they're admiring his costume or his arms is anyone's guess.) Normally he wouldn't be bothered by the attention, but he doesn't like the kicked puppy look Adam gets when other people flirt with Tommy, like he might lose him to one of the desperate girls that just wants say they were fucked by Tommy Conlon.

The drinks are ridiculously fucking expensive, but Tommy doesn't want to get kicked out for threatening the bartender; he forks over the cash and returns to their booth, where an anxious Adam talks to a slender redheaded girl dressed as Daphe from Scooby Doo.

"Wow," she's saying awkwardly, "so I guess you're ... not dead."

Adam scowls at her and says shortly, "Yeah." When he notices Tommy approaching, his face instantly changes; at first, his shoulders relax with relief, and then his eyes widen with horror as some mysterious realization strikes him. He clears his throat as Tommy comes to stand beside the girl, setting down their drinks. "Um, Rachael," he says, and the girl turns to face Tommy, "this is Tommy. He's, uh, my boyfriend."

Rachael's jaw drops, and she looks between Tommy and Adam wordlessly. (Meanwhile, Tommy's still trying to figure out why Rachael seems like a familiar name.) When she finally speaks, her voice cracks. "Adam, you're ... you're gay?"

Adam makes a face and says, "Bi, I guess."

But Rachael doesn't seem to register what he says, because she's still looking between him and Tommy like she literally cannot wrap her head around the idea that Adam has a boyfriend. "Oh, my God," she says in a soft, dramatic voice, "did I turn you _gay_ , Adam?"

Adam groans and rolls his eyes. "Fuck, not everything is about you," he says with exasperation, and that tone makes Tommy suddenly realize who Rachael is. Kyle usually referred to her as "Adam's mega-bitch ex" and rarely ever called her by name, so Tommy had nearly forgotten that she had one other than Ultra-Cunt or Heartless Cheating Whore.

"Oh," he says lowly, glowering at her, "you're _that_ Rachael." He takes a step closer to her and pulls his shoulders back for show. He just wants to scare her a little, that's all.

Paling, Rachael gapes at him and moves back. "Um," she says, suddenly hasty, "nice seeing you, Adam. Con- congratulations." She turns and quickly walks away, like the damn club's on fire, and Tommy snorts at her back before settling into the booth beside Adam.

Adam pulls his glass close and takes a drink, wincing through it. "If you were trying to make her piss her pants," he says finally, smiling ruefully, "I think you succeeded."

Winding his free arm around Adam's waist, he pulls him close. "Yup," he says with a triumphant smirk, "she deserved it for the bullshit she put you through."

Dropping his head on Tommy's shoulder, Adam pauses and swishes his drink. "Let's not talk about her," he says at last. "It's over. I just want to enjoy my time with you."

Humming, Tommy turns to kiss the top of his head. "Yeah, sorry," he says just as quietly, and tilts his head slightly to kiss Adam on the mouth. Adam responds immediately, holding onto Tommy's filthy shirt with his free hand and kissing back fervently.

"Gross," he hears Kyle say, "stop that right now, John McClane. What would your wife say?" Tommy pulls away to see them slide into the booth, their clothes slightly disheveled and their face make-up smudged.

Adam reaches under the table with his cane and jabs it into Kyle's stomach, who doubles over into Katherine, possibly as an excuse to lay his head on her chest. "Nobody cares what you think," Adam says, doing a half-decent impression of House's gruff and lilting voice, "you're a male nurse."

Tommy chuckles and gets comfortable, nursing his drink and enjoying their laughter. Whenever he looks at Adam, he's all smiles, joking and drinking with Kyle and Katherine. He doesn't mention Rachael again, and just in case Adam might possibly be thinking of her, Tommy thinks that railing him into their mattress later will make him forget.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oonze, oonze, oonze, oonze--
> 
> Somebody scream!


	14. morning rituals

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Among other things, Adam and Tommy always go for a run.
> 
> Well, Adam walks Skeletor, and Tommy does fucking _laps_ around them.

Adam wakes every morning at four because that's when Tommy does fucking pull-ups in the doorway of their bedroom grunting and groaning and usually shirtless. And every morning, Adam slurs out some variation of, "You serious right now?" before burying his face under a pillow and going right the fuck back to sleep.

(Adam has a theory that Tommy works out in their room because, like, _one time_ Adam woke up, saw Tommy's rippling muscles and called him to bed for a half-asleep fuck. It's like Tommy thinks if he's loud and shirtless enough, Adam will do it again until it's a habit.)

At five, he actually hauls himself out of bed and steps carefully around Tommy doing push-ups in the hallway. (The kind where he _claps his hands_ when he comes up, how the fuck?) Skeletor sits in the corner, watching Tommy, and Adam can't help but laugh because it looks like their damn dog is _spotting him_ or something. Adam goes to the bathroom, brushes his teeth, and washes his face.

Tommy appears in the doorway, a faint sweat breaking out over his forehead. "Bandage?" he asks quietly, a little breathless from his pre-workout. (He's barely _started_ , too.)

"Yeah," Adam says, fishing one out from under the sink, as well as a couple Q-tips and some ointment. He pulls his t-shirt over his head but leaves his arms in the sleeves, holding onto the hem of the shirt as Tommy stands behind him.

As Tommy spreads clear ointment over his scar, Adam asks, "Did you eat?"

"Oatmeal," Tommy says quietly, peeling the plastic off the bandage and placing it gingerly along his spine. He smooths his hand over the bandage before gently patting Adam's right hip to signal he was finished.

"Thanks," Adam says, and he slips back into their bedroom as Tommy lifts himself for a couple more pull-ups.

Adam puts on some comfortable clothes and his running shoes. (Well, they're sort of more like _walking_ shoes now.) In the living room, he finds his iPod and Tommy's dated mp3 player, tucking the first in his pocket and leaving Tommy's on the counter. He calls Skeletor to his side and attaches his leash to his collar with an affectionate pat of the dog's head. Tommy comes in from the hall, and he hastily tucks his music player away before grabbing the house keys. Adam leaves first, starting down the sidewalk at a leisurely pace; after a moment, he tucks his earbuds in and finds something upbeat to listen to.

Eventually, Tommy runs past him, his arms and legs pumping, and Adam watches him until he disappears around the corner. Adam hasn't even made it to the end of their street by the time Tommy runs past him again, the back of his sweatshirt soaked through. Now, they both take the same circular route around their house, cutting through the neighborhood to get to the nearby trail. At his top speed, Tommy can run the whole circuit in about three minutes, then slows down to about six when he's cooling down. Adam and Skeletor take their time and walk the whole thing in fifteen or twenty minutes, mostly because Adam has to sit on a bench and take a break halfway through. He'll pop some Vicodin and wait around for Tommy, who always sits with him for a minute or two to share some water and a kiss. They take their route multiple times, until Tommy wants to call it quits, then he walks back to their house beside Skeletor and Adam.

By seven, they're usually finished with their morning run and walk. Back in their kitchen, Tommy feeds Skeletor some dry kibble and Adam washes his hands to start breakfast. (Their real breakfast, not just oatmeal or fruit; Tommy needs some recovery food after his runs.) Nowadays, breakfast consists of a lot of green stuff and protein, but nobody complains. Adam sticks to this go-to hash thing he made up one day that he can literally put on almost anything. Diced zuccini, tomatoes, onions, sometimes potatoes, and spinach all get dropped in a hot pan until they're sizzling, then he adds drained pinto beans near the end (he read somewhere that draining and rinsing them got rid of, like, half the sodium). Very lightly, he sprinkles salt and pepper, holding up spoonfuls for Tommy to taste until he grunts his approval.

Meanwhile, he'll whisk eggs and scramble them or fry a few with cooking spray. (He tried to poach an egg once, to disastrous results.) Then they just pick a vessel: crunchy tostadas, flour tortillas, corn tortillas, or even toast. Whatever they're in the mood for. (Tommy likes the burritos with scrambled eggs the best, with a little salsa and cheese on top.)

Adam doesn't mind cooking. It doesn't make him feel emasculated or insulted or anything. Tommy sometimes stands behind him, his arms around Adam's waist as he tends the stove, pressing warm kisses against the back of Adam's neck. He always smiles when Adam cooks for him, and Adam knows that he truly appreciates all the care and thought Adam puts into his diet and his meals. It makes Tommy _happy_. (Besides, last Valentine's Day, Tommy presented him with a full-body apron and asked that Adam _only wear that_ while he fucked him against the counter. So, yeah, the kitchen is pretty great.)

Once breakfast is finished cooking, Adam and Tommy take their plates to the living room and sit on the couch, leaning over the coffee table and catching up on their shows. (This month, they switch between _Justified_ recorded on their DVR and _Breaking Bad_ on NetFlix.) Skeletor pads in after them and settles in his dog bed, watching them with his big, wet eyes; his nose twitches every time a morsel drops on the floor, but he always waits until they clean the kitchen to find their scraps.

"S'good," Tommy says as he digs in, and he reaches over to squeeze Adam's knee, grateful and warm. Adam smiles because he always says that.

"Thanks," he says happily, leaning against him. "It is pretty good, huh?"

As an answer, Tommy makes a low, pleased noise in his throat and turns his head, planting a sloppy kiss on Adam's cheek, and Adam laughs and wonders when his life got so ridiculously wonderful.


	15. nighttime rituals

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tommy knows that Adam worries too much, but he doesn't know how to reassure him.
> 
> Until now.

Before bed, Tommy removes Adam's bandage and guides him into the shower; sometimes, he goes inside with him, but not tonight. Instead, while Adam sighs under the hot water, Tommy feeds Skeletor dinner and locks up the house.

When he returns to their bedroom, Adam's waiting in his pajama pants, his short hair damp. He holds out another bandage, ointment, and q-tips. "Do you mind?" he asks, and he _always_ asks, like he feels guilty for getting cancer, for the surgery, for the pt, for being "a burden."

"No," Tommy says, and he sits on their bed behind Adam, applying his medicine and the bandage with practiced efficiency.

Once Tommy finishes, Adam flashes him a grateful smile and pulls a t-shirt over his head. "Lie down," he says gently, and Tommy obliges with a grunt.

On his stomach, his arms folded under his chin, Tommy shuts his eyes and feels Adam settle himself over his lower back, his knees on either side of Tommy's waist. Adam very carefully digs his fingers into Tommy's shoulders, giving special attention to the left, and Tommy melts into the mattress with a groan.

Adam does this every night. Tommy thinks he does it because Adam doesn't know how else to thank Tommy for taking care of him. He has a sneaking suspicion that Adam feels as though Tommy "puts up with him" even though Tommy fucking _loves him_ and doesn't care that he has a limp or aches.

"You don't have to do that, y'know," he grumbles into a pillow, and Adam pauses.

"What? You okay?"

Tommy lifts his head and repeats, "You don't have to do this _every night_ , Adam."

He can barely see Adam in his peripheral vision, but he can feel the anxiety in his roving fingertips. "I know," Adam says, "but I want to. I'm not the only beat-up body between us." Another pause, then a little laugh. "Wow, that was dorky," he says more quietly, and he sounds like he's smiling now. "Hello, alliteration."

Every movement thought out, Tommy half turns and gingerly takes Adam down to the bed with him, pulling the sheets over them and holding him close. "I just meant," Tommy says against his cheek, "that you don't have to thank me for anything. If you want to gimme a massage because you _want to_ , and not because you feel guilty, then that's fine. But don't think I _pity you_ , Adam. I'm with you 'cuz I love you, plain 'n' simple."

Pulling away a bit, Adam stares up at him, searches his face and worries his lower lip. "Are you sure?" he whispers, and Tommy nods.

"I'm here 'cuz I wanna be here," Tommy says, rubbing his thumb over Adam's jaw, "not because I feel _obligated_ to you."

Adam's eyes crinkle as he huffs a quiet laugh, and all the tension leaves his shoulders. He wriggles closer to Tommy. "Obligated," he repeats, teasing, "that's a big word for you."

Tommy exhales suddenly through his nose, his own version of a small, private laugh, and smiles back. "Don't get smart with me," he says, and he pulls Adam against him, leaning in to kiss his neck. "You won't be able to talk right when I'm done with you," he says lowly, rolling his hips, and Adam gasps hoarsely.

"Oh, _fuck_ ," Adam says, and it's the last completely coherent thing he says that night.


	16. working out

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tommy lifts weights and shit. Adam just tries not to hurt himself.

The gym they go to some mornings before work is _huge_. Adam's never actually seen half of it because he sticks to this little room on the second floor that has a whole assortment of cardio and strength machines as well as mats, enormous yoga balls, and weights. (Even then, he's about ninety percent sure that room is supposed to be for women only, but it's not like there's a _sign_ or anything. The ladies just gave him dirty looks the first few times he showed up, but they stopped when they saw him limping.)

Tommy's probably seen more of the gym than he has, he's much more comfortable in there than Adam. Adam doesn't touch the downstairs machines or the free weights. There's an indoor and outdoor pool that he kind of wants to try, but then he'd have to bring spare clothes in a gym bag and shower in the locker room; _then_ he'd need to rent a locker to put his stuff in, and it was all just too much hassle for something that would probably hurt more than help his leg.

So he takes the treadmill at a slow pace with a slight incline, or, with some difficulty, he'll cycle. Mostly, though, he nabs a mat and stretches. He took a couple Pilates and yoga classes just to ask the instructors afterwards how he could adapt the moves for his gimpy leg, and they were remarkably helpful, even taking the time to show him various modifications to strengthen his leg and back without hurting himself.

Today, he uses resistance bands and weights for slow, easy moves that nonetheless have sweat beading on his face. He works and lifts and lunges for a solid hour, until everything aches and he's ready to go home for a hot shower. He swings the towel around his neck and takes the stairs down one at a time, glancing up to scan the machines for Tommy.

He's not so hard to find; he's one of the biggest guys in the gym, and Adam just looks for his tattoos and his enormous traps to find him. Today, Tommy's working on his arms (like really though, does he ever do anything else?) as a girl stands in front of him; she's flushed as she eagerly talks to him, and Tommy doesn't really look _engaged_ , but it still makes Adam pause. _Of course,_ he thinks, setting his jaw.

Adam's rarely bothered by other people; he makes sure of it by never talking to anyone unless he absolutely _has to_ and by keeping his headphones firmly over his ears. He can count on one hand how many times someone has gone out of their way to talk to him.

Tommy, on the other hand...

On the drive home from the gym, Tommy sometimes off-handedly mentions that some girl (or, more rarely, some guy) wouldn't shut up while he worked the machines. They _innocently_ ask to touch his arms or spot him, ask him "What're you doing later?" or "Do you want to get a coffee or something?"

Tommy doesn't give them _anything_ ; he's even wearing _earphones_ half the time and people still chat with him. He doesn't smile or flirt back or even talk to them, but maybe that's why they keep coming back. Like Tommy's a challenge, or a guy they can _change_.

And sure, Adam knows _why_ ; Tommy has to be the hottest dude at the gym, and he's not just saying that because Tommy's his boyfriend or anything. A lot of the guys at the gym are older or slightly overweight or weirdly proportioned because they don't know how the fuck to efficiently use machines. Tommy's a fucking Adonis compared to them.

Adam wouldn't say he's jealous. More like really fucking annoyed.

With a thin smile, he approaches Tommy from his other side. "Ready to go?" he asks, and the girl gives him a bitchy, pinched face, like he was interrupting them or something.

"Excuse me," she says, and she's doing that passive-aggressive bullshit that girls do.

With a grunt, Tommy gets to his feet and gathers his belongings. He goes to Adam's side and winds an arm around his waist, pecking him on the mouth before staring down the girl. "Yeah," he says lowly, "excuse you." Her eyes wide, the girl picks up her things and hurries away, her face even redder than before. Adam tries not to beam.

Making a pleased sound in his throat, Tommy takes Adam's hand, and they leave the gym together.


	17. spooning

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When it's cold in their living room, they watch tv like this.

After arranging the pillows on one side of the couch, Tommy lies down first, facing the television on his right side and backing up as far as he can. Then he opens his arms for Adam, who carefully lowers himself onto his side in front of him, and Tommy immediately wraps his arms around him, pulling Adam's back flush against his front. Adam pulls a couple blankets over them and turns on the tv, wiggling back into Tommy's heat.

"What do you wanna watch?" Adam asks, and Tommy buries his nose in the crook of his neck, humming low in his throat.

"Whatever you want," he says against his skin, shutting his eyes.

He hears Adam make a frustrated little huff of a sound and tries not to smile. "Even Big Cat Week?" he says quietly, sounding embarrassed.

"Just put it on," Tommy says, a little exasperated, "I'm not really watching."

Adam makes a thoughtful noise, and Tommy opens one eye to make sure he's changing the channel to whatever nature thing he wants to watch. The television now shows a group of lionesses hunting a zebra or something, so Tommy closes his eyes again, content.

"You warm?" he asks, smoothing his hands over Adam's side and stomach to create friction, and Adam suppresses a laugh, squirming.

"Yeah," he says, sounding happy again, and Tommy makes a pleased noise of his own.

"Good."

Silence falls comfortably between them as Tommy curls into Adam's back, sucking lazy kisses into his neck, and he feels Adam searching for his hands under the blankets before intertwining their fingers.


	18. drunk

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tommy gets bad-drunk.

Adam comes home from work to a quiet house and knows immediately that something's wrong.

"Tommy?" he calls, apprehensive, and he hangs up his coat and bag with a frown. "You okay?"

He doesn't get a coherent answer, just a gruff sound from the kitchen; Adam walks there slowly and hovers in the doorway. Tommy's leaning against the counter with a half-empty bottle of Jack, his eyes glazed and his mouth working as he murmurs to himself. His breath catching, Adam swallows thickly before clearing his throat.

Tommy rolls his head up and blinks at Adam, then with a sound like a whimper goes to Adam and clumsily wraps his arms around his middle, dropping his chin on Adam's shoulder. "Missed you," he slurs, sounding pathetic, and he pulls back to stare hard at him. "Where were you?" His tone changes quickly from affectionate to accusatory.

"Work," Adam says carefully, and he reaches forward to grip the neck of the bottle, gently trying to take it from him. "Why are you drinking?" he asks quietly.

Tommy makes another grunt of a noise in his throat, works his jaws, and pulls the bottle to his chest as he shoves Adam's hand away. "Pop called," he says angrily, "tryin' to- _rekindle_ our relationship or some _shit_." He takes a swig of the Jack. "Don't wanna talk to him. The fuck does he want to talk to me for?"

Adam worries his lower lip. "He probably just wants to make up for his lack of a relationship with you when you were a kid," he says, and Tommy turns on him, fury etched into the tired lines of his face.

"You defendin' 'im?" he says lowly, taking a step closer, and Adam throws up his hands with wide eyes.

"I'm just saying that--"

Tommy's against him faster than he can comprehend, gripping Adam's upper arm with one hand and jerking him forward. "Sayin' what, huh?" he says, his words sliding together, his breath stinking. "Sayin' what? Spit it out!"

Bristling and grinding his teeth, Adam tries to wrench himself away, breathing, "Stop." Tommy just holds tighter. "Stop!" Adam says, raising his voice, and Tommy actually does go still. "You're being a drunken asshole," Adam says, feeling like a stone is wedged in his throat. "Is that what you want? You want to be him, Tommy?"

Tommy changes instantly; his face goes slack and his eyes widen as his enormous shoulders slump forward. He collapses in on himself and pulls Adam close to him, trembling. "No," he says roughly, "no, never. No, Adam, no, m'sorry." His voice is wrecked, and Adam slides his hands over his back, struggling to comfort him.

"It's okay," he says softly. "C'mon." He takes the bottle away and pours the rest down the sink; Tommy doesn't stop him. "Let's get you to bed," he suggests, and he pitches his voice up to make it sound appealing.

Giving clumsy little nods, Tommy wraps his arms more securely around Adam for a moment before letting him go. Instead, he holds his hand as Adam leads the way to their bedroom. Adam gets Tommy out of his day clothes and helps him into his pajamas, then pulls the covers down. "Bed time," he reminds lightly, and Tommy climbs under the sheets, grumbling something unintelligible under his breath. Adam tucks him in and moves away to change out of his work clothes.

"Where you goin'?" Tommy says desperately. "Come back, m'sorry." He groans. "Everything's _spinnin'_ , need you."

"I'm coming back," Adam says, keeping his voice warm and patient. "It's okay. I need to change, too." He uses the dresser for support and puts on his pajamas as quickly as he can. As an afterthought, he carries their little trashcan to Tommy's side of the bed before climbing into the sheets beside him. "See, I'm here."

Tommy turns to him and buries his face in his chest, his big arms circling Adam's waist. "Okay," he says, his voice muffled, "okay." He whimpers. " _Fuck_ , dizzy."

Adam holds him close and strokes his hair, shushing him. "I know," he says softly, "I put the trashcan next to you if you need to throw up. I don't think you should try to run to the bathroom while you're dizzy. Yeah?"

Sniffing, Tommy relaxes against him. "Mmhmm," he grumbles, and moments later, his breathing changes as his body sinks into the mattress.

Exhaling heavily, Adam wriggles to get comfortable, resting his head on one of Tommy's arms. Looking up at his sleeping face, Adam pushes Tommy's hair out of his face, then strokes his hand with his thumb until he falls asleep, too.


	19. formal wear

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Adam looks real fuckin' cute in a tux.

"Almost ready?" Adam asks from the bathroom, and Tommy hears him opening the medicine cabinet and the clatter of pills. "We gotta leave in a minute."

"Yeah," Tommy grunts. "Almost."

He's completely dressed in his tux, standing in front of their closet mirror and struggling with his bowtie. Adam had given him a brief lesson on how to tie it, but Tommy had pretty much completely forgotten everything he'd said.

The only reason he's even putting on the stupid bowtie is because of this cancer charity ball that Tommy and Adam had been invited to, and Tommy had a feeling they were only invited because he was sort of a celebrity and his boyfriend had survived cancer. Whatever, Adam seemed to be happy to go.

Tommy's _this_ fucking close to ripping the bowtie into a dozen tiny pieces when Adam hobbles over with a tired smile. He always knows when Tommy nears his breaking point.

"Hey," he says gently, taking Tommy's hands in his own, "let me." He places Tommy's hands at his waist before reaching up again, tying the fabric slowly and methodically. Relaxing, Tommy watches his face and rubs circles against his ribs with his thumbs.

"There," Adam says once he finishes, and he leans away, sweeping his eyes down then back up. "You look--" His breath catches, and his dimples appear as he tries not to smile. "--amazing."

Tommy grunts and does the same, looking Adam up and down. Both of their tuxes are a last minute rental, so neither of them are tailored, but Adam looks fucking perfect, like always. With him looking so cute and put together, Tommy has the sudden urge to make him utterly _debauched_ and undone.

With a hungry growl, Tommy pulls Adam against him and buries his face in the crook of his neck, sucking greedy kisses. Adam inhales sharply and bows his body into him, winding his arms around Tommy's neck with a pleasantly surprised sound.

"Um," he says quietly.

Tommy makes a noise low in his throat, the one he knows makes Adam's knees buckle, and he tightens his arms around Adam's waist to catch him. He's ready when Adam half-falls against him, clutching Tommy's shoulders.

"We should go," he says, his voice tight, like he's holding his breath, "I don't want to be late."

Smirking against his neck, Tommy moves his mouth up, leaving a trail of wet kisses, and he languidly pecks Adam's lips, pulling away after each kiss. His eyebrows furrowed, Adam follows him, trying to kiss back. Tommy keeps his face impassive.

"Don't you wanna go?" he asks lowly, sliding his hands along Adam's chest, unbuttoning his jacket.

Adam worries his lower lip, not moving to stop Tommy but his tone still protesting. "Yeah, but..." He trails off, and Tommy pulls Adam's jacket off, throwing it onto their bed behind them. He starts on the buttons of Adam's white shirt, inclining his head to scrape his teeth against Adam's collarbone once he uncovers it. Adam exhales with a shudder.

"I guess we could ... real quick," he says finally, and Tommy growls again, attaching his mouth to one of Adam's nipples and sucking.

"Good," he says around it, moving one hand down to the front of Adam's pants and undoing them, keeping one arm firmly around Adam's waist. Adam just pants and holds onto him, thrusting feebly into Tommy's hand when he wraps it around Adam's half-hard cock.

"Fuck," he whimpers as Tommy strokes him slow and loose, using the pre-cum leaking from Adam's tip to slick the rest of him.

"Already wet for me," Tommy says gruffly beside his ear, and he feels Adam's knees buckle as he melts against him all over again.

"Yeah," he breathes, clutching Tommy's arms and bucking his hips into Tommy's hand.

Tommy sucks half a dozen dark marks into Adam's chest, steadily pumping his cock. Adam's sharp, stubby nails dig into his skin, and Tommy smiles as he pulls low, constant groans from Adam's throat. "Tommy," he nearly whimpers, "Tommy, _God_."

Finally, Tommy hears it: the shaky, wordless little moan that Adam nearly always makes when he's close. Adam starts to tip his head back, his mouth falling open with breathless keening sounds, and Tommy straightens up, snaking his free hand along Adam's back and grasping the back of his neck. He easily palms the back of Adam's head, forcing Adam to look at him, and Adam gasps hoarsely, his eyes fluttering.

"Tommy," he says urgently, almost pleading.

Tommy looks at him and twists his wrist, squeezing him from base to tip. "Go ahead," he says roughly. He carefully tightens his grip on Adam's head and neck, knowing that Adam would try to turn away and hide his face as he comes, but Tommy wants to watch.

Adam groans helplessly, his fingers curled in the lapels of Tommy's jacket, and he arches, his body stiffening as his eyes clamp shut and his mouth flies open but goes silent. Suddenly, his body shudders all over, ripping a dry, shaky sob from his throat as he comes over his bare stomach. Tommy watches every twitch and shiver and wrinkle as Adam rides out his orgasm, his own erection throbbing in his pants.

With a long sigh, Adam goes boneless in Tommy's arms, wearing a content smile. Tommy guides him to the bathroom and wipes him clean with a wet cloth, then carefully dresses him.

"What about you?" Adam asks as Tommy fastens the buttons of his shirt, and Tommy presses a kiss to his forehead.

"M'fine," he says, "I can wait." He leaves unsaid promises hanging in the air: _I can wait 'til tonight when I'll take you again and again 'til you're begging me to stop._

Adam's ears flush red, and he buries his face in Tommy's chest, grinning. "Okay," he says, his voice cracking with contained laughter, and when they leave, Tommy half-carries him out, just because he can.


	20. dancing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They dance a little differently than everyone else, and that's okay.

The club is too loud, and the lights can't decide whether they want to be blinding or not bright enough. On the dance floor, bodies grind under blinking colored lights, Kyle and Katherine among them; Tommy feels like if he keeps looking over there, the flashing will make him seize or some shit.

He and Adam sit alone together at a dimly-lit booth, one arm around Adam's shoulders as the other absently strokes Adam's left thigh. Adam has his head tucked against Tommy's chest, and he's been quiet for so long that Tommy wonders if he's fallen asleep.

"Hey," he says, and Adam lifts his head, his forehead wrinkled and the space under his eyes looking darker than usual. "Wanna get outta here?" The speakers are far enough away that he can speak at a normal volume.

Relief blooms on Adam's face as he says with exasperation, " _Yes_ , Christ." He immediately wiggles his way out of the booth, waving at Kyle from afar to explain that they're leaving. Tommy takes his hand and leads him out.

They hail a cab, and Adam heaves a sigh once he gets settled, leaning on Tommy again. Adam says their home address before relaxing again.

"You know," he says conversationally, "I don't even _like_ clubs. There are much better ways to meet people, people that I would like. If I don't like clubs, why would I want to know club people?" He pauses uncertainly and hazards a glance at Tommy. "Does that even makes sense?"

Tommy makes a quiet, encouraging noise, letting him know that Adam makes perfect sense to him.

Adam shifts to smile at him. "Maybe if it was a different kind of club," he muses, "like a club from about sixty or seventy years ago, I could enjoy myself. People had class then. Actual instruments and _nice clothes_ and- and good dancing. Not that sex-on-the-dance-floor stuff, which works for some people, I guess, but not me." He reaches over and intertwines their fingers. "I like the intimacy of slow dancing, or ballroom dancing. You know?" He looks up at Tommy, and in the passing lights, Tommy notices that his ears are reddening. He loves when Adam talks about the past; once he starts on the radio or old movies or the like, he'll smile and get faraway eyes, like he's imagining the glamour.

Smiling, Tommy squeezes his hand, gently. "I know," he says.

Dropping his head back against Tommy's shoulder, Adam goes quiet with his contentment, and they arrive home in silence. Back in their living room, Tommy shuts the front door and locks it for the night before turning to Adam and effortlessly sweeping him off his feet. Adam laughs and wraps his arms around his neck, his eyes crinkling and his dimples pressing perfectly into his cheeks.

"Dance with me," Tommy says gently, and Adam's grin falters. He looks suddenly uncomfortable, and he drops his gaze, picking at the buttons of Tommy's shirt.

"I can't, really," he says, and his voice cracks. Tommy sets him down, carefully, and Adam looks up at him with a wrinkle between his brows and a frown. "Y- you know," he says, and he shifts his weight awkwardly. "I just- can't. Not well." He trails off, unconsciously touching his hip with one hand. _Not anymore_ , Tommy infers, and he passes his thumb over Adam's forehead, smoothing out the lines.

"Can't say that without trying," he encourages, and he pulls Adam flush against him. "Small steps." He places Adam's hands on his shoulders and wraps his arms tightly around Adam's middle. "I've got you."

Adam pulls his bottom lip between his teeth but doesn't protest, and slowly, Tommy leads them in a comfortable sway but doesn't move his feet. "See?" he says after a moment, and Adam huffs a laugh.

"It's not really _dancing_ ," he says, a smile pulling at his mouth, and Tommy grunts, stepping to lead them in a small circle, their bodies still rocking back and forth.

"How 'bout now?" he asks with a smile of his own.

Adam shrugs his shoulders, but he can't seem to stop grinning now. "Better," he concedes, still teasing.

With a thoughtful hum, Tommy takes one of Adam's hands in his before pulling away, their connected arms outstretched. Gingerly, he tugs Adam back, and Adam spins his body into him, his back now to Tommy's front. Winding his arms around him again, Tommy resumes their slow sway, kissing the back of Adam's head.

"Almost there," Adam says, and Tommy can hear the grin in his voice. Twirling Adam one more time, Tommy pulls their chests back together, and with much consideration, he dips Adam to one side, his arms wound strong and tight around him.

"We dancin' now?" he asks softly, and Adam makes a soft, gleeful sound like a breathy laugh. He's grinning as Tommy lifts him up, and he frames Tommy's face with his hands.

"Yeah," he says, and his voice breaks again. "I fucking love you, you know that?" he says quietly, and he leans up and kisses Tommy firmly on the mouth, making a whimpering sound in his throat. Tommy holds him close and kisses back, their mouths moving together knowingly.

At last, Adam draws back, just enough to still breath each other's air. His gaze, suddenly dark and glazed, shifts from Tommy's eyes to his mouth. "How about," he says, his voice raspy, "you show me the tango?" He steps backwards into the hall, towards their bedroom, and Tommy growls low in his throat.

"I'd love to," he says with a smirk, and he pursues a laughing Adam into their room, shutting the door behind them.


	21. watching porn

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Adam thinks it's a gag gift, that Kyle's not really serious, but Tommy seems kind of interested. Like, really interested.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings for tie bondage, blindfolds, dirty talk, and blowjobs/facefucking.
> 
> I should also mention that Tommy doesn't tell Adam what he's going to do to him once he ties him up, but Adam nonetheless has complete and utter trust in him.
> 
> If you're comfortable with all this, please read on! ♥

Fresh out of the shower, Adam dries his hair and simultaneously checks his email from his phone. He scrolls past the spam until he finds a message from Kyle titled, "happy valentines day dude!!!" After leaving the bathroom so Tommy can use it, Adam opens the email and finds a short message attached to a url: _use ur email to sign in password is D1CKINABOX_.

Making a face, Adam goes to his desk to turn his laptop on because he has a feeling he shouldn't click on that link on his phone. Once it boots up, he navigates quickly to his email and finds Kyle's message. With apprehension and anxiety coiling in his chest and stomach, he clicks the link before scrambling away from the screen, like it's gonna explode.

The link opens a new tab and brings him to a security page, and Adam groans when he sees the words, "THIS WEBSITE IS FOR **ADULTS ONLY,** " followed by fucking _terms and conditions_. Under that, there's a big red button that says, "I AGREE: ENTER."

Adam snatches up his phone and dials Kyle's number. It rings a few times, then Kyle finally answers with a groggy, " 'Sup?"

"What the hell is this?" Adam says, and although he tries to control his voice, it still squeaks in the middle. "Did you buy me a fucking subscription to a porn site?"

"Yeah, man," Kyle says matter-of-factly, obviously still sleepy. "What's wrong with that? I thought maybe it'd give you and Tommy some ideas."

Adam grinds his teeth and glances over his shoulder to make sure Tommy is still in the shower, and he can clearly hear the spray from down the hall. "We can't do anything _crazy_ , dude," he says finally. "What kind of Cirque du Soleil motherfucker do you think I _am_?"

Kyle yawns and mumbles, "I don't, man. It's not that kinda site. Katie and I just thought you and Tommy could enjoy it together. We love watching porn together!"

"TMI," Adam says roughly.

"Yeah, sorry, but my point stands. Just try it! It's only a month. If you don't like it, just let it expire. Peace out, dude." He groans tiredly. "M'going back to sleep."

Still frowning, Adam says, "Okay ... thanks." His mother had always taught him to be grateful for any gift, even a gift he didn't want. Hanging up, he sets his phone beside the laptop and stares at the screen. After a few long moments of uncertainty, he takes the mouse in his hand and clicks on the big red button.

The page changes, and Adam's eyes widen. The banner is made up of several men bound with intricate rope to chairs or beds, their heads thrown back in ecstasy. They're tall and muscular, lithe and young, hairy and broad, light-skinned, dark-- Apparently porn was more accepting of different shapes and sizes than the mainstream media. The name of the site stretches across the banner: _RIDE THE EDGE_.

And that sort of worries Adam, but he pushes on. He logs in with the info like Kyle said, and suddenly he can download any fucking video he wants. But, uh, he'll do that later. Instead, he clicks on the preview for the most recent addition to the site, and the title screams: "BOUND STRAIGHT STUD HAS HIS HUGE UNCUT COCK EDGED FOR THE FIRST TIME"

Making a face, Adam forces himself to ignore the alarming lack of punctuation and takes one last look over his shoulder; the fan in the bathroom is still on, he can hear it, he probably has a few seconds. Facing the computer again, he cautiously presses 'play.'

The video starts with the site's logo on a black background, a long, masculine groan reverberating from the speakers. Adam feels his ears and cheeks reddening, and a hand flies to his mouth as the scene fades in.

The scenes change so quickly Adam can hardly keep track of what's happening. A nude, blindfolded man has been suspended from the ceiling in a complex cocoon of red rope as two other men circle him. The bound man moans through a gag as someone swallows his cock, as they flog him, as they thrust a long dildo deep inside him--

"What's that?" he hears Tommy ask from somewhere behind him, and Adam slams the laptop shut and whirls around so fast he nearly gets whiplash.

"What's what?" he says, trying to sound normal, but his voice cracks and he knows he looks like a deer caught in the headlights of a sixteen-wheeler.

His hair damp and wearing nothing but a navy towel low around his hips, Tommy raises his eyebrows and steps closer. Leaning down and grasping the arms of the computer chair, he cages Adam in with a smirk.

"Was that porn?" he asks, amused, and Adam sinks into the chair, clearing his throat.

"Kyle bought a subscription for us," he says just above a murmur.

Tommy grunts and turns the chair around so Adam's facing the laptop again. "Lemme see," he says beside Adam's ear, his voice rolling and rough, and Adam shudders.

Slowly, he opens the laptop and enters his password. After a moment of hesitation, he restarts the video. He squirms as it plays, knowing that Tommy is looming over his shoulder and watching, too.

Once it ends, there's a seemingly long silence between them, until finally Tommy shuts the laptop and murmurs in his ear, "Don't move. Stay right here."

Flushed and tense, Adam stays in the computer chair as he hears Tommy move around the room behind him. Finally, he feels Tommy come close, and makes a surprised sound as something silky is slipped over his eyes.

"Is that one of my ties?" he asks dumbly, and he feels Tommy knotting it securely at the back of his head.

"Yeah," Tommy says lowly. "You trust me, right?"

Adam's reply is immediate: "Of course I do."

Tommy grunts and places Adam's arms atop the chair's armrests, and Adam feels silk wrapping around his wrists.

"How many of my ties am I going to have to iron later?" Adam asks, teasing.

"Three. Too tight?"

Adam twists and pulls at his restraints, and there's plenty of slack to keep him comfortable but in place. "It's fine. What are you doing, anyway?" He wouldn't say he's anxious. Interested, yes, even aroused and a little breathless, but completely trusting of Tommy.

"You'll see," Tommy says, and Adam hears a dull _fwump_ , like clothing hitting the floor. He feels Tommy come close, and a hand palms the back of his neck. Adam's mouth falls open as a rush of tingly arousal stirs his cock, just from Tommy's hand firm against his skin.

Then, something warm and wet traces the shape of his mouth, and Adam makes an involuntary sound when he realizes it's Tommy's cock. He licks his lips and catches Tommy's head with the tip, and he hears Tommy growl above him.

"Tease," he says roughly, and Adam cries out when one of his nipples is tweaked through his shirt.

Tommy plunges his hardening cock between Adam's parted lips, and just the sensation of Tommy's hot erection filling his mouth has Adam squirming, his own dick tenting against his sweats.

He can't move, though, he has no choice but to swallow Tommy down, and he feels himself leaking as Tommy curls his fingers in Adam's short hair. Taking more of him in, Adam breathes carefully through his nose, smelling nothing but Tommy's heady musk, and he groans around the throbbing cock sliding over his tongue and finally touching the back of his throat.

"Fuck," he hears Tommy grunt, "you take my cock so good, Adam. Bet you didn't know you don't have a gag reflex 'til you sucked my cock the first time." He thrusts slowly into Adam's mouth, growling low and animalistic. "And you love my cock in your mouth, huh?"

Adam whimpers and gives an eager suck as an answer, swallowing around Tommy's erection.

" _Fuck_ ," Tommy says, his voice wrecked, and his hips jerk a little faster. Adam keeps his mouth and throat open, saliva dribbling down his chin and tears prickling at the corners of his eyes. He moans around Tommy, his own cock straining against his pants and aching to be touched.

Tommy's hips stutter, and suddenly, warm and bitter come floods down Adam's throat. Instinctively, he swallows, and then Tommy pulls his softening dick from Adam's mouth. A string of something wet sticks to his bottom lip.

"Tommy," he breathes, his voice rough and used. He hears Tommy shifting, feels the weight of him move away. Adam rolls his hips, desperate for friction, but then Tommy's pulling his sweats down over his hips. Adam arches up to help him, but Tommy leaves the pants bunched around his knees.

After a moment of wriggling, Adam gasps hoarsely as a wet heat that must be Tommy's mouth envelops his cock, and he arches again, bucking his hips with a shaky moan. Tommy groans around him, sending vibrations down his cock right to his balls and back; his voice pitches up as he moans again, squirming helplessly against the ties.

"Fuck, _fuck_ ," he nearly whines, and Tommy holds down his hips with careful hands. The wet heat of Tommy's mouth tightens around him as he swallows, the flat of Tommy's tongue braced against the underside of his cock.

Adam _wails_ , there's no other word for it, and his orgasm comes without warning, his body bucking and twisting as he rides white-hot waves of pleasure. Vaguely, he hears himself babbling Tommy's name over and over as he fills a warm throat with his release. He feels Tommy swallow it all.

Finally, he comes down, panting as he collapses against the computer chair. The blindfold comes off first, and he smiles doubly when he sees Tommy's face. "Holy shit," he croaks, and Tommy smiles as he unties him.

"Liked it?" he asks lowly, his voice hoarse as well.

Adam nods and lets Tommy help him up, his legs feeling wobbly and weak. His skin tingles all over. "Yeah," he says breathlessly, "definitely."

Tommy lays him down on their bed. "Good," he says, and he leans down for a languid kiss before murmuring, "me, too."

Grinning fully now, Adam curls up around him and closes his eyes, spent and satisfied. "What do you want for breakfast?" he asks out of habit, and he feels Tommy's chest rumbling as he chuckles.

"I just ate."

Adam goes hoarse with laughter, burying his face in Tommy's neck. "Okay," he says after a moment, his voice absolutely destroyed now, "we'll eat later."

Tommy grunts his agreement and pulls Adam flush against him, pressing his plush, smiling lips to Adam's forehead and temples.


	22. cooking/baking

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tommy guesses all this food must be special guest treatment from his brother and Tess, and he should have figured Adam would ask to help.

Tommy holds Adam's hand and leads him to the kitchen, following the tantalizing smell of bacon and the sound of idle chatter. He hovers with Adam in the doorway, watching the girls mix a light batter, as neatly as excited little girls can, with help from Tess. At the stove, Brendan flips bacon and fries sunny side-up eggs. Tommy's mouth waters.

"Morning," Adam says awkwardly at his side, and the girls simultaneously snap their heads up, grins breaking out over their faces.

"Morning, Adam!" Rosie says, her cheeks pink. "Morning, Uncle Tommy!"

"Morning," Emily says quietly, engrossed in mixing the batter, and when Tess pours in blueberries, Tommy guesses pancakes.

"How did you sleep?" Tess asks, as if she wants to make sure their room was comfortable for them.

Adam huffs a little laugh and says, "Like a baby." Tommy grunts his agreement, and Tess beams.

"Listen," Brendan says from the stove, craning his neck to look at Tommy and putting on a stern voice, "I know you're dieting, but just eat the food. Call it a cheat day." He cracks a grin, and Tommy smiles back.

"I'll make him eat," Adam says, giving Tommy a pat on the arm, then he shuffles inside. "Is there any way we can help?"

Rosie bites her bottom lip and looks pleadingly up at her mom. "Can they help us?" she asks softly.

"Ask them politely," Tess says, going to the pantry.

Clasping her hands together, Rosie bounces in place and asks, "Please, Adam? Uncle Tommy?"

Adam glances at him for confirmation, so Tommy nods, then Adam goes behind the counter beside the girls. "Sure," he says, his dimples showing as he smiles, and Rosie squeals, clapping her hands.

Tess returns from the pantry with a bag of milk chocolate chips, handing them to Adam along with a recipe card. "Their favorite," she whispers, and as if on cue, Rosie and Emily gasp with delight.

"Ooh!" they say together, their eyes bright. As they scramble to grab new bowls and spatulas, Emily chirps, "Thanks, Mom!"

Tess smiles and goes to Brendan with the blueberry pancake mix, bumping her hip against his, and he nudges back.

"Tommy," he hears Adam say, all patience and affection, "can you measure the dry ingredients with Emily? Me and Rosie will do the wet."

Tommy grunts and turns to Emily, who blinks up at him owlishly, holding out little measuring cups and spoons. "We need flour, sugar, and- and baking powder and salt," she says, suddenly quiet. He can't help but notice how nervous she is, especially when he saw her giggling and playing with Adam just last night.

"Okay," he says, gentling his voice, and he stoops to her level and measures everything out into the bowl. With a little whisk, he holds her hand in his and combines the dry ingredients, making sure to tell her in his softest, warmest voice how great she's doing.

Slowly, her shoulders come down and her stutter goes away; she bounces and smiles again as they work, and Tommy pets her hair approvingly. As the wet ingredients get poured into the dry, Tommy notices Adam smiling at him. After a moment, Adam reluctantly tears his eyes away.

"Okay," he says to the girls, tearing open the bag of chips, "now we fold in the chocolate." The girls each take a rubber spatula and do just that as Adam pours the dark pieces of chocolate into the batter. With that done, Adam takes the bowl and hands it Emily. "Give that to your mom and dad so they can make the pancakes," he instructs, and she nods, walking carefully so that the batter doesn't spill. Rosie follows her, peering at the stove from behind Emily to watch her parents cook. Tess takes the bowl with a grateful smile and places spoonfuls of the batter on a hot pan, complimenting the resulting pancakes.

Tommy absently winds an arm around Adam's waist and pulls him close, kissing his temple.


	23. fears

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tommy comforts Adam by telling him he gets scared, too.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For other couples, this is where I put the "back-to-back badasses" prompt, but for Tommy and Adam I did this.

Tommy tightens his grip and nudges Adam, murmuring, "You're too tense. Deep breath."

Adam obliges, but his shoulders remain bunched up to his neck. "It's nerve-wracking," he says, just as quiet, his eyes scanning the dark hallways.

With a smile, Tommy says, "You're doing fine."

Shaking his head vehemently, Adam narrows his eyes at him and hisses, "No, bullshit, this is bullshit." He swivels his gaze back around. "Every time I turn a corner there's another goddamned-- _Jesus, fuck_!" A flailing creature comes at them, and there's a hail of bullets from both of them. Tommy can't help but notice that while his shots are clustered near the target's head or chest, Adam has adopted the spray-n-pray tactic, where he frantically swings his machine gun and desperately hopes to hit something.

With the creature dead, Adam jabs at the pause button until the screen freezes with the menu, then throws his controller into the other couch. "Fuck this game!" he says, shaking out his arms, and he faces Tommy again, his eyes wide but his mouth pursed. "I don't like zombies," he says firmly. "I didn't say it before because it sounded lame, but _I don't like zombies._ In seventh grade, Kyle dragged me to this haunted house, the theme was Night of the Living Dead, and I was _scarred for life_ \--"

"Okay," Tommy says, cutting him off and fighting a grin. He sets his controller down and pulls Adam to him, winding his arms around him. "Whaddaya wanna play?" he asks patiently.

Relaxing immediately in his arms, Adam buries his face in his chest and stays there. Finally, he says, "Little Big Planet. That's safe."

"Okay," Tommy agrees. After a moment, he adds, "It's not lame, Adam." He lowers his voice. "I don't like rats, or cockroaches. They fucking gross me out."

Adam lifts his head, one of his eyebrows raised curiously. "Wait," he says, teasing a little, "the great Tommy Conlon is afraid of mice?"

Tommy snorts. "Pretty sure I said rats."

"Yeah, but that could include mice," Adam says, and he looks completely at ease now, his dimples pressed into his cheeks as he smiles.

"Guess so," Tommy finally relents, and he gets up to switch the games. "Tell anyone," he says, keeping his tone light, "and I'll tie you down and make you watch 'The Walking Dead.'" He throws a smirk over his shoulder, just in time to catch the pillow flying at his head.

"Asshole," Adam says good-naturedly, grinning now.

Tommy grunts, not arguing, returning to the couch once Little Big Planet starts to load. Picking up Adam's controller from the other couch, he drops it in his lap before getting comfortable beside him. They sit close, their sides and their thighs pressed together, as they play, little smiles etched on their faces.


	24. arguing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tommy thinks Adam's pushing himself and gets rough with him to prove a point.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings for slight dub-con and general meanness. It's a fight, what can I say?

"Let me do it, I can handle it," he says once, then Adam finds himself saying it more and more often. It falls out for every day house things like vacuuming or washing the dishes, just because he wants to show Tommy he _can_. He doesn't want Tommy to do _everything_ , he wants to feel useful. So he says it for other stuff, too, like trying out some of the strengthening machines at the gym or doing some grocery shopping on his own.

Every time he _does_ say it, though, Tommy goes quiet, and a muscle twitches in his jaw. Adam doesn't know if he's mad or just frustrated, but he doesn't explain his silent treatment.

Before bed, Tommy crawls into the covers beside him and kisses him soft and slow at first, his arms wound tightly around him. Adam kisses back fervently, arching up to meet him, and a gentle hand on his stomach presses him back down to the mattress.

"Don't push yourself," Tommy says against his mouth, and Adam huffs, frustrated.

"I won't," he says with a grimace, sitting up on his elbows, "I can handle it, Tommy, I'm not glass."

Tommy pauses, his face darkening. "You can handle it," he repeats flatly, so quietly Adam almost doesn't hear him.

" _Yes_ , Jesus, I'll be fine," Adam says hurriedly, grasping at the hem of Tommy's shirt, but then Tommy's moving so fast Adam can barely register it.

With a shocked, involuntary sound, Adam feels himself being none-too-gently manhandled onto his stomach, his wrists pinned down beside his head and Tommy spreading his legs with his knees. "You can handle it," he says again, his voice a growl, and he tightens his grip on Adam's wrists, making him gasp with pain. "You can handle me being _rough_ , Adam?" Tommy leans over him, presses him into the mattress, and Adam feels suddenly short of breath, squirming to get free.

"Don't," he gasps, "don't twist my words."

Tommy sits up, shifting Adam's hands above his head and holding them down with one hand. "No," he growls, shoving Adam's pants down over his ass, "you can handle it. That's what you said. You can _handle it_." Tommy digs his fingers into the soft flesh of his ass, and Adam arches, kicking his feet for purchase.

"Don't be an asshole," Adam says in a hiss, gritting his teeth.

Gripping Adam's good hip, Tommy lifts his ass up and reaches between his legs to grab his limp cock, squeezing roughly. "Handle it, Adam," he says meanly, and he moves his hand to press his thumb against Adam's hole, "take it. Can you _handle_ my fingers dry? Can you _handle_ my dry cock?"

Adam twists, and Tommy places a hand on his lower back, over his scar, pushing down just enough to send spikes of pain down his spine. Crying out, Adam goes still and tenses his shoulders, grumbling, "Okay, I get it, I'm weak. Get the fuck off me."

For a moment, Tommy doesn't move, and after a long silence, he finally pulls back. Adam sits up, scrambling off the bed and walking stiffly to the bathroom. He slams the door behind him and collapses against it, sliding down until he hits the floor. Pulling his legs to his chest, he drops his forehead on his knees and rakes his hands through his hair, gritting his teeth to fight the tears.


	25. making up afterwards

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tommy can't say sorry enough.

Guilt clenching in his stomach, Tommy climbs off the bed and ambles slowly to the bathroom door, wringing his hands. His shoulders hunched, he tries the handle, but it doesn't budge. Frowning, he lowers himself to his knees.

"Adam," he says, and he hears his voice shaking, "m'sorry. M'so sorry. I didn't ... mean to hurt you. I was just mad."

He doesn't hear anything from the other side of the door, except soft, harsh gasps that must be Adam holding back tears. Tommy swallows.

"Please come out," he says pitifully, "m'sorry. I won't do that again--"

"Oh," Adam says suddenly, his voice shrill, "you won't get mad again?"

A sharp pain lances through his chest as he croaks, "I won't hurt you again."

The handle clicks, and the bathroom door swings inward. Adam's face is red and his eyes are glistening with wetness. "You've said that before," he says, his voice pitching higher until he's nearly yelling. "Remember? You said you'd never hurt me again. _You said that_."

Tommy watches him but stays away. He doesn't need a reminder. He knows. Adam was hiding in a bathroom then, too. "I know, m'sorry," he says more quietly, feeling wrecked, "I won't ... it won't happen again."

Adam clenches and unclenches his fists, his eyes searching and his mouth pursed. His voice barely above a whisper, he asks, "How do I _know_?" His voice cracks, and his tears suddenly spill out over his cheeks.

Tentatively, Tommy reaches forward and swipes his thumbs under Adam's eyes, gently cradling his face. "If I do, I'll go," he says firmly, but he has to swallow around the lump in his throat at the thought of leaving Adam, "'cuz you deserve better."

Adam's mouth trembles, and he grasps at the hem of Tommy's shirt. "But I only want you," he murmurs, his voice breaking, and Tommy pulls him into his arms. Adam goes easily, tightly hugging Tommy around his middle, and Tommy drapes his arms around Adam's shoulders.

"Then _I'll_ be better," he says, and it's a promise. "I'll be better for you, Adam." He holds Adam's head with one hand, and Adam curls into him, pressing his face into his chest.

"Okay," Adam says in a hush, "okay."

Tommy feels wetness soaking through his tee, but he doesn't say anything of it. Instead, he pulls Adam closer and kisses the top of his head, stroking a hand over his back and whispering, "M'sorry, m'sorry," until his voice goes hoarse.


	26. sick

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tommy gets a cold.

Adam tucks Tommy into bed, pulling the sheets up to his shoulders and making sure the pillows are comfortably supporting his head. Tommy squirms and tries to sit up.

"M'fine," he says, but he sounds scratchy and weak. "Gotta train today." He coughs, and it sounds dry and painful and _awful_. Adam winces just at the sound and frowns.

"You're not going anywhere," he says sternly, pushing Tommy down with a hand to his chest, and Tommy sighs, falling back and panting. For once, Adam actually overpowers him, and the shock must be on his face because Tommy's face darkens.

"I'll go where I want," he says angrily, trying to sit up again as if to prove a point, but Adam easily keeps him down with a hand on his good shoulder.

"No, Christ," Adam says, exasperated, and he stares Tommy down. "Just let me take care of you, okay? You always take care of me, let me take care of you for once."

Going still and quiet, Tommy says nothing except for a little rolling grumble as he settles slowly into bed.

Standing, Adam smiles gratefully and says, "I'll make you some soup."

As he leaves the room, he hears Tommy hacking again, and he picks up his pace. He heats up some canned soup in the microwave, finds saltines, and pours a tall glass of orange juice. (His mom always told him to drink juice when he had a cold. Something about vitamin C.) Setting everything on a tray, Adam slowly carries it down the hall to their bedroom, and Tommy wriggles to sit up when he sees him.

"It's hot," Adam warns as he props the tray up in front of Tommy, who blinks at him sort of cluelessly.

"Thanks," he says at last, as if he's unsure how to even say it, and he stirs the soup, watching the steam coil up from the bowl.

Adam settles beside him and says easily, "You're welcome." He turns on the television, which Tommy was apparently too exhausted to do for once, and channel surfs until he finds a documentary.

Tommy huffs at the penguins huddled together on the screen. "Is there anything else on?" he asks none-so-subtly, hunched over the tray and slurping carefully at his soup.

"Like what?" Adam asks patiently, and he starts cycling through channels again. Tommy pats his arm when he sees "How It's Made," and Adam has to double back.

"That's good," he says, and as they both learn how shovels end up in various stores, Tommy drinks his soup with appreciative little growls low in his throat. He nearly empties the bowl, sucks down his juice, and eats half a package of crackers before settling back against the pillows. Adam quickly takes the tray into his own lap and drinks the rest of Tommy's soup, who snorts at him.

"You're gonna get sick," he says matter-of-factly, and Adam shrugs his shoulders.

"We live together," he says just as flatly, "I'll get sick no matter what."

Inevitably, about three days later, Adam's curled up under their sheets with a sore throat and heavy eyelids, sniffling helplessly into tissues. Tommy spoons him from behind and wraps his arms around him, holding him close.

Adam twists and whines, "You're too hot." He kicks weakly at the sheets, trying to relieve the oppressive heat settled around him.

Tommy pulls the sheets back up. "You're freezing," he says, holding him still.

Huffing, Adam falls limply against the mattress and shuts his eyes. "No, I'm not," he says childishly, and he groans when he feels Tommy bury his face in his neck. "What are you _doing_?" he says, all nasally elongated vowels, and Tommy mouths at his skin hungrily. Instead of answering, he rumbles low in his throat, sliding his hands into Adam's shirt.

Gasping hoarsely, Adam pants and mumbles, "Are you turned on right now?" Tommy grunts affirmation. "That's gross, I'm all snotty and--" Tommy pinches one of his nipples, grinding his half-hard cock against his ass, and Adam makes a soft, involuntary noise. "Okay," he agrees readily, and Tommy sits up to kiss the breath out of him.


	27. moving in together

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tommy does the heavy lifting, and Adam unpacks their boxes.

Tommy grunts and sets the last box in their mostly empty living room. Except for a few sparse pieces of furniture and the boxes holding most of their their belongings, their house is overall bare. He straightens up and stretches his arms over his head, bending backwards with a groan. When he relaxes and glances at Adam, sitting on the floor in front of an open box, Adam's jaw may as well be on the floor, and Tommy smirks at him.

"Like what you see?" he teases, flexing, and Adam snaps his mouth shut, his teeth clicking and his eyes wide.

"Uh, yeah," he says awkwardly, and he fidgets for a moment before returning his attention to the box he's in front of, reaching in and digging around, his ears flushing.

Crouching beside him, Tommy carefully takes Adam's hands in his, squeezing gently. "Let's take a break," he says softly. "Hungry?"

Adam nods, and Tommy effortlessly pulls him up. "We don't really have anything to make," Adam says with a frown, heading into the kitchen. "We need to go grocery shopping."

There's a couple boxes on the kitchen floor and counter, holding their food from their pantry as well as their cooking and eating utensils. Tommy pokes through the pantry food box and pulls out the bread and some all natural peanut butter. "Sandwiches?" he suggests, and Adam huffs a laugh.

"Sounds good," he says with a closed-mouth smile, then he tilts his head, "but no milk."

Frowning, Tommy grunts and sets the food back. The idea of trying to enjoy a gooey peanut butter sandwich without a glass of cold milk was pathetic, to say the least. He folds his arms and leans against the counter, facing Adam, who shuffles into his arms. Tommy immediately embraces him, holding up his weight.

"We could go get something," Adam says, unsure, probably conscious of Tommy's diet. "What about that Mongolian barbeque place down the street? They have zero calorie noodles, and if you piled on a lot of veggies, it'd be okay."

Tommy hums low in his throat, considering, and he props his chin atop Adam's head. "What's Mongolian barbeque again?" he asks, grumbling.

"Uh, where you pick your protein, your starch, your veggies, and your sauce, then they cook it in front of you. They have chicken and beef, they also have rice if you don't want noodles. Brown rice. And the zero-calorie noodles are really good, I tried 'em when Kyle took me once."

Making another thoughtful noise, Tommy tips his head back and forth before finally relenting, "Sounds pretty good."

Adam grins, his eyes crinkling up and his dimples peeking out as he does. "I'll get the keys," he says brightly, and he hobbles off.

About a half hour later, they sit across from each other at Adam's kitchen table, brought from his old apartment, and dig into steaming food in white take-out containers. At the surprisingly small noodle place, Tommy took Adam's advice and filled the little bowl they handed him with plenty of vegetables to go with his zero-calorie noodles. He stuffed broccoli, spinach, mushrooms, bell peppers, onions, and zuccini inside the bowl, as well as tofu. He picked chicken for his protein, then the chef cooked it all with teriyaki sauce, using only a long pair of sticks on the hot, circular flat-top.

It was a pretty cool experience, Tommy decided. He wants to come back.

Adam picked nearly all the same things, minus the mushrooms and tofu. (He says something off-handed about Rachael ruining tofu for him forever.) He chose brown rice, chicken, and a mix of teriyaki and garlic-sesame sauces.

They eat together in their new house (fuck, _their_ house), and Adam can't stop smiling at him from across the table.

"I could get used to this," he says warmly, and Tommy smiles back at him.

"Me, too."


	28. proposing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tommy has a plan, really he does, but he sort of caves about a week before their dinner reservation.

Curled up on their bed and watching _Aerial America_ reruns, Tommy pulls Adam closer to him, Adam's back pressed to his front. With a grunt, Tommy buries his face in the crook of Adam's neck, who huffs a little laugh and turns his head to grin at him, dimples and all.

"Why do you always do that?" he asks, genuinely clueless, and Tommy shakes his head, bewildered. For a moment, he wishes Adam could see him the way Tommy sees him.

"'Cuz I love you," he says simply, and Adam turns his attention back towards the television with a wider smile.

"Well," he says quietly, "I love you, too."

Tommy grunts again, and he sucks wet, smiling kisses under Adam's ear, who squirms and flushes red.

"Keep doing that," he breathes, "and I'll wanna ... you know." Suggestively, he pushes his ass back against Tommy's groin.

A hum vibrating in his chest, Tommy tightens his arms around him and grinds back against him. "You say that like it's a bad thing," he says, teasing, and Adam inhales sharply, gesturing lamely at the t.v.

"I'm trying to get educated here, Tommy," he says, using sarcasm to cover up his obvious arousal. "I'm learning about, uh, the Grand Canyon and- and other places."

Tommy chuckles and kisses his neck again. "Sure, get your education," he says, casually slipping a hand under Adam's shirt and stroking his stomach.

After a moment of remaining tense in his arms, Adam finally relaxes against the pillows, watching the soaring desert landscape on the screen with a content smile. Tommy doesn't really watch the show. He keeps his eyes on the side of Adam's face, using his other hand to drag his fingers through Adam's short hair. He watches Adam's eyes light up, watches his eyes crinkle at the corners, watches his cheeks dimple.

"How did they even do that?" Adam breathes, and Tommy sits up on one elbow, looking down at him. He doesn't even know what Adam's talking about, he hasn't been paying attention, but when he glances at the screen, he thinks Adam might be referring to the ancient buildings carved into the side of a cliff. "That's amazing," Adam says softly, off-handed and almost to himself.

Tommy stares down at his bright, captivated face and loves him so much that his chest aches. "You're amazing," he says, feeling stupid and cliche, and Adam turns his head to blink at him.

"Really?" he says, like he honestly doesn't believe it. "Me?"

Leaning down, Tommy touches their foreheads. "Yeah, you," he says firmly, and he strokes his thumb over Adam's cheek. "I love you, Adam. So fucking much." He swallows thickly and licks his lips, kisses Adam on the mouth to keep him from saying anything back just yet. When he pulls away, he says, "I wanna be with you, always." He clears his throat and asks, at last, "Will you?"

Previously smiling, Adam's face drops. "Wait," he says after a pause, and his voice cracks, "are you...?" He breathes shallowly, his eyes wide. "I mean, are you sure? _Me_?"

Tommy nods, just once, and holds his face in his hands. "Yeah," he says thickly, " _you_ and me, together, if ... you'll have me."

Still looking breathless and shocked, Adam clears his throat and nods a few times, clumsy and jerky. "Yeah," he says just above a whisper, "of course I will." He suddenly grins until his eyes nearly close altogether, his nose scrunching up as he says, " _Yes_." He winds his arms around Tommy's neck and pulls him down, and they kiss for a long time, passionate and slow and smiling, until the credits roll on the television screen.


	29. getting married

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Adam never imagined it like this.

Sitting in the bridal suite, Adam chews at his fingernails, cutting each and every one until they're stinging with pain and blood trickles down from half his fingers.

"Hey, man," he hears Kyle say from behind him, "how you holdin' up?"

Adam looks wordlessly at him through the mirror, wild-eyed.

Kyle pulls a box of Band-Aids from one of the drawers and sits beside him. "Everyone's sayin' the bride's having a panic attack or something," he says with a frown, and he carefully starts to bandage Adam's fingers. Adam holds still and lets him.

"I'm freaking the fuck out," he says quietly, and he doesn't even have the energy to resent being referred to as the bride.

"Why?"

Adam inhales deeply and holds it. "What if I get up to the alter and he, like, jumps out the window? What if we get to the vows and he doesn't _say anything_? What if we're driving off in our limo and it's like 'The Graduate' and he suddenly realizes he made a huge mistake?" He finally exhales, his face flushed from talking so quickly without breathing like a normal fucking person.

Kyle stares at him, then cautiously reaches out to squeeze his shoulder. "Dude," he says slowly, as if choosing every word with care, "that stuff's not gonna happen." He gestures with his free hand, a grin splitting his face. "Tommy loves you, man." He prods Adam's shoulder for emphasis. "He'll be there, and he'll stay, and he'll be fucking ecstatic when he sees you."

After a long pause, Adam's shoulders drop, some tension releasing. "Okay," he says softly, but he doesn't feel entirely convinced. His eyebrows are still knitted together and he cracks his knuckles restlessly after Kyle goes.

He sits in the bridal suite for a long time, and he's not allowed to leave until his mother appears in the doorway with a little smile and teary eyes. "Are you ready, honey?" she asks quietly, and he tries a reassuring smile.

"Yeah," he says, forcing himself up despite his legs feeling suddenly wobbly, "I hope."

He offers her his arm, which she takes and drops her head against his shoulder. They leave the suite together and wait behind the procession outside of the ceremony area.

With a smile, she says, "At least I don't have to worry about competing against a younger, sweeter girl for your affection."

He huffs a laugh and says, "Mom, you'll always be the most important woman in my life."

She makes a little hitching sound like she's fighting a sob, so he turns to kiss her forehead. She clutches his sleeve for a moment before smoothing it out with the flat of her hand. "Don't want wrinkles," she says, her voice breaking.

They're almost to the doors. "I love you," he says, and he squeezes her gently against him for a moment.

"I love you, too, baby," she says, and it's little more than a scratchy squeak.

Finally, the doors are held open wide for them, and Adam's eyes go immediately to Tommy, waiting for him across the room. The space might be filled with their closest friends and family, but for one fleeting moment, it's only the two of them in this room. Even from the opposite side of the aisle, Adam sees a smile pull at Tommy's mouth. It's pure joy and adoration, and Adam's heart clenches in his chest as he grins back.

In just a few strides, his mother supporting him, Adam is standing beside Tommy.

As the officiant begins the ceremony, Tommy leans over and whispers in his ear, "You look perfect."

A smile pulling up his mouth, Adam murmurs back, "You, too, big guy."

He feels Tommy's plush mouth against the shell of his ear, and he suppresses a laugh, brushing Tommy's hip with his knuckles.

The officiant continues; there are no objections, and they each say, "I do," Adam maybe a little eagerly. At last, Tommy leans down to seal their union with a kiss. Adam takes his face between his hands and fervently kisses his husband, grinning against Tommy's smiling mouth as their guests whoop and holler for them. (Or maybe that's just Kyle.)

The reception is loud and loving and supportive. Adam gets his first dance with Tommy, of course. Tommy holds nearly all of his weight up with his arms tightened around Adam's waist. As soon as the song ends, though, his mother steals him away, and Emily and Rosie pull at their Uncle Tommy to dance with them.

Amusingly enough, after that song, the girls switch; Adam's mother inconspicuously squeezes Tommy's arms as she dances with him, and Adam somehow finds a way to dance with Emily and Rosie so they're both satisfied.

And either because he's had three too many glasses of champagne or because he honestly wants to, Kyle dances with him, too. Adam doesn't mind, even grins through it and says, "I love you, man," as the music fades to another song. Kyle beams and slaps him on the back, saying a little too loudly, "Love you, too, dude!"

At the end of the night, Tommy helps Adam into their limo, the both of them smiling and laughing with inebriation. Tommy's pleasantly tipsy, though, not bad tipsy, and he keeps pulling Adam close against him, nuzzling his neck and rumbling happily in his chest.

"Down, kitty cat," Adam laughs, and he literally can't stop smiling. He's been grinning since the ceremony, and his cheeks fucking _burn_ from it but he's in such fucking _bliss_ that he doesn't care. His chest feels like it's going to burst, but it's the best kind of pain.

Tommy tightens his hold on him and buries his face in Adam's neck more aggressively, his smiling mouth pressing kisses against Adam's skin. The limo lurches forward, and the sudden shift of weight has Adam falling back against the seat, his laughter pitching up until he's nearly squealing with it. Tommy hums and follows him down, carefully draping his weight over him and mouthing at Adam's jaw and lips.

"I love you," Tommy says between languid kisses, "Adam Lerner-Conlon."

Adam's grin widens until his field of vision actually gets smaller from his fucking crinkled eyes. "And I love you," he says softly, reaching up and rubbing his thumb over Tommy's cheek, "Tommy Lerner-Conlon."

Tommy smiles at him, so bright and untroubled that he suddenly looks years younger, suddenly looks like he's never seen his best friend die or like he's never been to prison. Adam's chest clenches, and he kisses him softly and passionately. Tommy finds his hand and intertwines their fingers, smiling against Adam's mouth.


	30. honeymoon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Their trip is both educational and pleasurable.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i'm the worst person ever for taking so long for this update.  
> i'm so sorry, approximately ten people waiting for this.

Sunlight streams in between the thick curtains, and Tommy groans, rolling over to put his back to the window. He throws an arm over his face and reaches out with his free hand for Adam, making a low noise when he only feels overly-plush pillows and soft sheets.

"Adam?" he calls drowsily, lifting his head.

From the bathroom, he hears, "Taking a bath! This tub is _huge_ , I can practically do laps."

Stretching, Tommy rubs at his eyes and sits up, blinking at their hotel room.

The color scheme is warm and welcoming, an assortment of beige, brown, and dark red, with colorful still-lifes scattered over the patterned wallpaper. The furniture pieces have elegant, carved wooden frames, and the bed itself is firm enough that Tommy hardly felt Adam twist and turn in his sleep. There's even a flat-screen built into the foot of the bed that rises up out of the frame with the push of a button. It's the nicest room the two of them have ever been in.

Brendan insisted on the luxury hotel; he and Tess paid for it and called it their wedding gift to the happy couple. It's a little extravagant for Tommy, but Adam audibly gasped when they opened the door for the first time last night. He hasn't stopped smiling since.

"How long you been in there?" Tommy asks as he heaves himself out of the bed.

"Um," Adam says, stretching the sound, "a few minutes? It took a while to fill up. Why?"

Tommy ambles over to the bathroom, standing in the doorway and pulling off his boxers, leaving him nude. "Can I join you?" he asks with a smirk.

"Sure," Adam says, glancing at him, then his head whips around as he does a double-take, his eyes widening. "Jesus," he says softly.

"Move up a little," Tommy says, approaching the side of the tub, and Adam does so, scooting to the middle to make room for him.

Slipping into the warm water behind him, Tommy winds his arms around Adam's middle and pulls their bodies flush together. He doesn't miss the hitch in Adam's breath as they come close.

"This okay?" Tommy says gruffly, and he strokes circles over Adam's stomach, mouthing behind his ear.

Adam clears his throat and says with some difficulty, "Yeah, uh, really okay." He inhales sharply as Tommy licks the outer shell of his ear.

Huffing a laugh, Tommy smiles and moves his hands lower, sliding over Adam's thighs with slow reverence. He sucks dark red marks around Adam's ear, grazing his balls and cock with his hand. "Are you still sore?" he asks softly, and he dips his hand lower, rubbing his index finger against Adam's hole. His own cock stirs at the memory of Adam, spread out under him on the hotel's expensive sheets, his knees hooked over Tommy's elbows. He has little finger shaped bruises where Adam clutched his shoulders as Tommy sunk into him again and again.

Spreading his knees further apart, Adam drops his head on Tommy's shoulder, arching his back with a breathless sound. "My back more than my ass," he says, and Tommy suddenly notices how used and rough his voice sounds this morning, probably from the hoarse shouts Tommy tore from him last night.

"So I can make you come right now?" Tommy asks coyly, pushing his finger inside the tight ring of muscle and circling slowly, easing him open.

Adam gasps, squirming against Tommy's hardening cock. "Yeah, I'm okay," he groans quietly, rolling his hips.

With a grunt, Tommy takes Adam's cock in his free hand and simultaneously presses a second finger inside of him, scissoring them carefully. Adam sighs and shifts, as if to give Tommy better access, then he gives a sudden punched-out moan.

"There," he says, nearly whining, and Tommy grinds his erection against the small of his back.

"Touch your cock for me," he growls, pulling his hand away to tease Adam's nipples, and Adam's breath hitches again.

"Okay," he says, his voice shaking, and he strokes his own cock as Tommy presses a third finger inside him, massaging his prostate.

Adam's mouth falls open as he makes helpless whimpering sounds, and Tommy moves his fingers in slow, torturous movements, relishing Adam's desperate little noises. When intimate, he loves nothing more than taking Adam slowly and steadily to the edge, always grins when Adam shouts for him as he comes close.

"Fuck," Adam says, and it's so garbled that Tommy barely catches it, "please."

Tommy hums, teasing, "Please what?" He crooks a couple of his fingers and squeezes one nipple, and Adam gasps, the sound hitching in his throat.

"Please," he says again, his voice pitching up, "just-- Anything, fuck." Panting, his hand stutters at his cock as he pushes down against Tommy's fingers, crying out as he does. "Fuck, fuck," he moans, and he shouts when Tommy begins to thrust his fingers at a brisk pace.

"Come for me, Adam," Tommy growls beside his ear, and Adam shudders with a series of breathy groans, rocking his hips against Tommy's fingers.

"Tommy," he gasps, then he goes rigid and clenches around Tommy's fingers, his wail bouncing off the tile walls as he comes in long spurts over his stomach. Tommy doesn't stop thrusting until Adam whimpers with sensitivity and squirms away. Finally, Tommy removes his fingers and swipes Adam's come off his stomach and into the soapy water.

"Oh, gross," Adam says, his voice even rougher than before, and he cranes his neck to glance at Tommy. "Your turn?" Adam reaches for his thick erection, but Tommy catches his hand.

"I can wait 'til we're done," he says, and, as promised, after the water has receded and they've toweled off, Tommy lies back on the bed to help Adam suck his cock.

Adam holds himself up with his elbows, his legs tangled with Tommy's, and he swallows down Tommy's throbbing cock with practiced grace. He strokes the protruding bones of Tommy's hips with his thumbs.

Although Adam had been clumsy and awkward the first time over a year ago, now he oozes confidence as he sucks and bobs his head. He takes Tommy's cock like a fucking pro, swallowing around him and relaxing his throat to take all of him.

Tommy can barely think straight; the hot, wet heat of Adam's mouth around his erection has him nearly seeing stars. He groans and cups the back of Adam's head, guiding his mouth in a slow slide along his cock. His head drops back against the pillows as Adam moans around him, sending pleasurable shivers along his spine.

"Fuck," he growls, "Adam..."

Dark eyes flicker up to meet his, then Tommy feels Adam's tongue stroking the sensitive underside of his cock, and Tommy shouts, his orgasm coming so suddenly and powerfully that his body goes rigid as he arches off the bed. He clenches his fingers in Adam's short hair, and when he finally comes down and collapses against the sheets, Adam has pulled himself up and settled atop Tommy's body with a flushed, pleased smile.

Tommy brushes his mouth with his thumb, rumbling in his chest and grinning. "You're getting cocky," he says warmly.

Adam flashes his dimples. "I think I can be proud of my cocksucking abilities," he says cheekily.

Tommy snorts and playfully shoves Adam's face into his chest, and Adam laughs, wiggling out of his grip to kiss him.

*

It's Adam's mother who suggested Rome for their honeymoon destination. As she argued, there was plenty of history for Adam to marvel over, as well as fantastic scenery and art for the both of them to enjoy.

They were staying seven days and seven nights, plenty of time to see as much as they wanted. Although Adam seemed intent on seeing the entirety of the city the first day, Tommy had to convince him that was impossible. Not only were there hundreds of other tourists, but heavy traffic clogged the streets. Tommy knew they would have to do a lot of walking, and Adam would be exhausted if they tried to visit every point of interest in one day. Instead, they made a game plan, stretching the sights over their entire trip and using the Metro system whenever possible.

On the first day, they go to the Coliseum and other archaeological sites. They take hundreds of touristy pictures and find a quaint cafe for lunch. Adam carries a little English-Italian dictionary around just to be safe, as he studied French in school and so barely knows any Italian. Tommy knows some phrases from his own high school Italian classes, but they don't have to use the language nearly as much as they thought they would. A lot of locals working in restaurants, tourist sites, and their hotel speak English, heavily accented, but English nonetheless.

The second day, they visit fountains, galleries, and museums. As they walk, Tommy reaches out for his husband's hand, and Adam doesn't pull away, not even when some people throw dirty looks their way.

On the third day, they go to the Pantheon, and Adam keeps singing "I Can Go the Distance" under his breath, a grin wrinkling his face.

The fourth day, they admire the city's architecture, such as plazas and monuments. When Adam begins shifting his weight from side to side, Tommy supports him and kisses his cheek.

"Massage tonight?" he asks softly.

Adam nods tiredly and sighs, "Yes, please."

On the fifth, they visit Vatican City and spend much of their time in St. Peter's Square. Adam rattles off facts about filming _Angels and Demons_ there, and Tommy just smiles.

The sixth day, they walk through ancient villas and gardens. When Adam's pace begins to slow, they sit at a shady bench for a short break. Adam pops some Vicodin, and Tommy carefully drags his knuckles over Adam's leg, trying to relieve some of the pain. Adam drops his head on Tommy's shoulder with a grateful sigh.

On their last day, they spend a lazy morning in their hotel room, tucked in their sheets and trading languid kisses. When they go out, it's only for lunch and souvenir shopping. Upon returning to their hotel, Tommy takes Adam to bed one last time.

For a long time, they kiss on top of the sheets, slow and smiling. At last, Tommy pushes Adam's shirt up just to hear his breath hitch, like Adam's always surprised by it. Tommy smoothes his hands over Adam's stomach and chest, rubbing his nipples with his thumbs.

"Mm," Adam whines beneath him, low and desperate, and Tommy smiles, kissing his navel and the top of his happy trail.

"Cutie," he says affectionately, sliding his hands under Adam's waistbands to slip his pants and underwear off.

"Really?" Adam says with raised eyebrows and pursed lips, like he doesn't believe Tommy.

Tommy grunts an affirmation and cups Adam's bare cheeks in his hands. "I wish you could see what I see," he says quietly, sitting up.

Adam looks up at him, naked from the waist down and his shirt bunched up around his collarbone. His cheeks and ears and chest are flushed red, and his cock is stirring between his legs, half-hard. Adam turns onto his good side, covering his face with his arm and grumbling, "Nothing to see."

Tommy turns him onto his stomach with careful hands, hooking his right arm under Adam's stomach and lifting him to place a soft pillow under his hips. "Except for my very fucking handsome, very fucking cute, very fucking sexy husband," Tommy counters quietly, dribbling clear lube onto his open palm.

Glancing at him, Adam chews his lower lip and says nothing. Tommy dribbles the warmed lube between his cheeks, and Adam arches his back with a little gasp. Coating his fingers in the smooth liquid, Tommy spreads his cheeks and circles Adam's hole with one finger.

Adam makes a punched-out moan of a sound, moving his knees further apart and shutting his eyes as he drops his head on the pillows. Smiling again, Tommy hums in his throat and pushes past Adam's tight rim, moving one finger in a slow circular motion to loosen him up. Adam squirms, his eyes still screwed shut but his lips parting to make soft _ah, ah_ sounds. Tommy keeps his good arm hooked under Adam's stomach to support him, and after a moment, pushes a second slick finger inside.

"Fuck," Adam breathes, and his fingers curl in the bed sheets as he devolves into shaky _ah, mm_ sounds.

Tommy leans forward to kiss the small of his back, gentling his mouth over Adam's rugged scar, and he feels Adam trembling beneath him. He adds a third finger and thrusts shallowly, searching, and Adam twitches with a gasp when Tommy finds his prostate. He rubs that spot with meticulous precision, and Adam moans and shudders under him.

"Ah, I-- You-- Nn, T- Tommy..."

Grunting, Tommy slides in a fourth slick finger, and Adam pushes back against him, groaning a little louder. With the arm around his stomach, Tommy lifts him up higher, and Adam absolutely wails, his cock fully erect and pressing hotly against Tommy's forearm. When Tommy looks, he notices that Adam's eyes are wet, tears sticking to his lashes, and his mouth won't close as he makes endless little moans and broken sounds.

"You okay, beautiful?" he asks gently, and Adam whimpers when Tommy crooks a couple of his fingers.

"Y-yeah," he answers between breathless panting, then he whines, "come on, I'm ready." He moans, spreading his knees further apart and looking at Tommy the best he can. "I need you to fuck me," he says softly, licking his lips. "Please?"

Overcome with arousal from those desperate words, Tommy growls and removes his fingers, whipping off the rest of their clothing with urgency. He rips open a condom and pulls it on. "Like this?" he asks hastily, stroking his cock with a handful of lube, and Adam shakes his head, turning on his good side to look at him comfortably.

"What about your shoulder?" he asks with concern, his brow creasing.

Tommy stills, and after a short pause, says, "I'll be okay."

Adam bites his bottom lip and doesn't say anything, and Tommy can see all his worries on his face. He knows that Adam's hating himself, thinking it's his fault they don't have a lot of options for sex, thinks his hip and his back and his cancer are to blame for everything. He can see the shame on Adam's face, the guilt churning in his stomach.

Tommy turns him onto his back and leans over him, kissing his mouth. "Stop," he says firmly, "I know what you're thinking. It's not your fault."

Adam tries to sit up, shaking his head again. "No," he says softly, "I was..." He exhales and looks at Tommy, reaching for his hand. "Listen, I can ... I can ride you."

Tommy stares. If there's one thing Adam is uncomfortable with, it's putting himself on display. Whenever they're intimate, he tries to tuck his face in the crook of his arm or outright cover his face with his hands when he feels his orgasm close. Tommy never suggests that Adam be on top because he knows how nervous it would make him, even if the position is perfect for both of their bodies: Tommy doesn't have to hold himself up with his arms and Adam doesn't put pressure on his back or hip.

At last, Tommy says in a flat, guarded voice, "Only if you want to."

Adam searches his face, and his expression slowly shifts from anxious (creased brow, chewing his lip) to determined (pursed lips, strong shoulders, narrow eyes). "I do," he says, and he sits up all the way this time. "Lie down." He moves out of Tommy's way and gestures for him to get comfortable on the bed and pillows.

Tommy relents, settling back against the bed and watching Adam, struggling to hold in his own desire. One of his many fantasies is Adam riding his cock, Adam's whole willing body his for the taking and the touching, Adam shuddering and clutching Tommy's shoulders as he comes.

Adam moves carefully, positioning himself over Tommy's hips, and Tommy places his hands at Adam's waist, supporting his weight. "Okay," Adam says, maybe mostly for himself, "I'm gonna..." Tommy can't see, but he feels Adam's hand on his cock, and he groans his approval as Adam guides himself down onto Tommy's erection.

"Take your time," Tommy says roughly, and his eyes roll back when the head of his cock pushes past Adam's rim. " _Fuck_."

Placing his hands on Tommy's shoulders, Adam slowly lowers himself down, his mouth dropping open as he does, and Tommy grasps at the sheets, arching as Adam takes more and more of his cock into his body. After a few torturous moments, Adam's ass finally rests against Tommy's thighs, the whole of Tommy's cock inside of him. Tommy groans, his knuckles turning white as he tries not to move before Adam adjusts, and Adam just breathes, his skin flushed and his cock dripping.

"You okay?" Tommy asks with some difficulty, and Adam shifts minutely, gasping as he does it.

"Just a sec," he says, his voice soft and wrecked. Adam breathes deeply above him, and Tommy slides his hands along Adam's trembling thighs, licking his lips.

"Okay," Adam says after a long pause, and he bites his bottom lip, "I think I'm good...."

With a roll of his hips, he moans and clutches Tommy's shoulders, and Tommy groans roughly, bucking up into Adam's tight heat, who cries out and pushes back.

They rock back and forth against each other, Tommy holding Adam around the middle to guide him down and Adam's fingers digging into Tommy's shoulders and chest, clinging desperately for support. Adam makes breathless _ah, ah_ sounds with every thrust, his cock bouncing against his stomach with the movement. Tommy decides he likes the bouncing the best, so he helps Adam along, growling low in his throat as Adam unconsciously squeezes around his cock.

Adam keeps tucking his chin against his own chest or his shoulder, to quiet himself or when he realizes Tommy is staring at him. He bites his lip and tips his head back, and Tommy watches him breathlessly, moving his hands over Adam's thighs, cock, stomach, and chest.

"So good for me," Tommy says lowly, and Adam whines, reaching down to stroke his own cock.

"Oh, fuck," he says, his voice breaking, and Tommy winds his arms around him, pulling him close so their bodies are flush together and slamming his hips up at a quick, steady rhythm. Adam's inner walls are hot and tight around him, and he snaps his hips even faster, eagerly fucking into Adam's slick heat.

Burying his face in a pillow, Adam wails with every thrust, and Tommy feels his cock leaking on his stomach. "I need," Adam whimpers, and he can't get the words out, "I need-!"

Tommy sits up, tucking Adam's legs around him so he's comfortably in Tommy's lap, then he takes Adam's cock in hand and strokes him in counterpoint to his thrusts. As his hips buck up, his hand comes down, and Adam shouts, his back bowing as his body tenses all over.

Adam comes then, white ropes of semen covering his stomach and chest. He shudders and moans ( _ah, ah, ah_ \--Tommy fucking loves those sounds) through his orgasm, his eyes shut and his mouth open. Adam's inner walls clench around his cock, and Tommy's overcome by his own sudden orgasm, clutching Adam to him as he groans through it. He keeps snapping his hips until Adam whines with sensitivity and his own cock goes limp.

Slowly, he pulls Adam off his cock and guides him down onto the bed. Adam only seems half-aware of what's going on, and he's still panting, flushed and shiny with sweat; he looks blissed out and breathtaking.

Tommy tosses the used condom in the trash and uses a washcloth he left on the nightstand to clean them both of come and lube. At last, he lies down and spoons Adam's back, the both of them on their good sides. He tucks one arm under Adam's pillow and wraps the other around his waist, and Adam makes a soft, happy sound, squirming to get closer to him. Tommy smiles, can't stop actually, and he buries his face in the crook of Adam's neck, sucking wet kisses.

Adam huffs an exhausted laugh, turning his head to catch Tommy's mouth in a few lazy kisses. "We're going home tomorrow," he says, and he sounds a little sad, a wrinkle appearing between his eyebrows.

"Our home," Tommy reminds him after a pause, and Adam's face lifts, his dimples appearing as he smiles.

"Yeah," he says, dreamy, "ours."

Tommy rumbles low in his chest and holds him close, and he doesn't let go.


	31. jealous

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> On a lunch date, Tommy acts sort of weirdly aggressive towards their waiter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For Dreamcreator, my number one commenter, who wanted jealous Tommy. Sorry it took so long, sweetie! ♥

Adam critically browses the cafe's menu, searching for healthy options for Tommy. "Hey," he says with a triumphant grin, "they have really great sides." He reads some of them off. "Steamed broccoli, mashed cauliflower, fruit salad...."

Tommy makes a thoughtful grunt of a sound. "Yeah," he agrees quietly, "brocolli divan looks good. Could get it without cheese."

Adam beams at him. "That works," he says, and he looks back at the menu, wondering if it would be mean of him to get something that Tommy couldn't eat.

Their waiter suddenly appears, smiling and looking between them. Adam glances up from his menu to give him his attention, giving him a closed-mouth smile in return. "Hi," the guy says, "I'm Ryder, and I'll be taking care of you today. Can I start you off with some drinks?"

Tommy barely looks up as he says, "Water, please."

Adam nods and says, "Same for me, thank you."

Their waiter sort of winks at them as he says, "Sure thing, hun." Then he saunters away. Adam rubs the back of his neck and looks at his boyfriend, who glowers at the guy's back.

"He's probably just trying to get a good tip," Adam says softly, reaching over to squeeze Tommy's wrist. He knows how much Tommy hates it when people, especially guys, flirt, and it pisses him off even more when it's the two of them out on a date. "Don't worry about it," Adam says, trying to sound reassuring, and Tommy's face relaxes from furious to calm as he squeezes Adam's hand back.

"Okay," he grumbles, and they return to their menus.

Throughout the meal, Ryder visits often, sending winks and fleeting touches their way. At first, he starts to touch Tommy's shoulder, laughing at something he said, but he snaps his hand back to his chest when Tommy glares at him. After that, he talks a lot more to Adam, even leaning over and making a crack about Adam's "big, grumpy friend" that Adam just smiles and laughs awkwardly at.

Tommy insists on paying and hands over his debit card, his expression dark as he hunches over the table. Ryder returns it to them and very specifically hands the receipt over to Adam, holding onto his fingers and saying, "See you 'round?"

Adam clears his throat and takes the receipt. "Sure," he says, his voice cracking, "maybe."

Ryder lingers a moment longer before sweeping away with a grin, and Tommy quickly signs whatever he has to. Adam drops a good tip on the table when he realizes Tommy didn't fill in the space for one on the receipt, then he scrambles after him as quickly as he can.

On the drive home, Tommy says nothing; he clutches the steering wheel like he wants to choke it and drives a little faster than normal. Finally, after coming into their house and putting away their leftovers, Adam faces him and asks, "What's wrong?"

Tommy closes the distance between them in a few quick strides, wrapping his big arms around Adam and pulling him close, his fingers digging into Adam's waist and ribs. "He was flirting with you right in front of me," he says roughly, " _right in front of me_."

Sighing, Adam returns the embrace with a frown. "So what?" he says gently. "I would never... _cheat_ on you, or--"

"No," Tommy says immediately, pulling away to look him in the eyes, "I know that. You wouldn't. _You_ wouldn't." He grinds his teeth and frames Adam's face with his big hands. "But other people, Adam? I don't trust them. You're fucking... _good_ and sweet and gorgeous--"

"Wait," Adam sputters, "what?"

"--and what if I'm not here," Tommy pushes on, a wrinkle appearing between his eyebrows to mirror Adam's, "what if I'm five states away and some asshole decides they want you?" He tightens his hold on Adam. "What if they--"

Adam's eyes widen. "Jesus," he says with alarm, "no one's going to... That's not gonna _happen_ , Tommy, I swear. I'm safer than that." He laughs, self-deprecating. "I'm more fucking paranoid than you, remember? I would never go anywhere alone if you were gone. I have Kyle and my mom if I need anything while you're away."

Tommy swallows thickly and brushes his thumb over Adam's cheek, and Adam reaches up to take his hand, intertwining their fingers. "You don't have to worry about that stuff," he reassures him quietly, "I'm yours, all yours." Tommy makes a quiet, hitched sound in his throat and pulls Adam into his arms again, burying his face in Adam's neck.

At last, he mumbles against Adam's skin, "Okay."

Adam leans away a little to kiss his mouth, smiling and stroking Tommy's arms in a comforting up and down motion. "Better?" he asks with a little smile, and Tommy gives a pathetic nod. After a quiet pause, he suddenly lifts Adam off the ground, and Adam wraps his legs around Tommy's waist out of habit. Kissing Adam's cheeks and nose and mouth, he carries him off into their bedroom, smiling again.


End file.
